Craved
by JacobBlackMoon
Summary: When love is craved, nothing is for certain.
1. Prologue

_**Author's Note:**_ Blah, blah, blah. You should follow or whatever me on _twitter_. It's "JacobsAngelNess". I'm pretty much on it all the time since it's on my iPhone. For those who have been asking and messaging me, I _will_ continue _I'm Yours_ and _Falling Into You_. God knows when that will be, though. But in the mean time, you should read this for the sexiness' sake! I love you guys! ^_^

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything.

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**Craved

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**

Prologue

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_Oh, boy, why are you so obsessed with me?_

_- Mariah Carey, Obsessed

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_

Renesmee Cullen walked outside, inhaling the crisp night air.

"Where's your car?"

She glanced and John, the tall reed-thin bouncer, and replied, "It's over there. I got here late so I had to park kind of far away."

"No problem, Vanessa."

Renesmee looked at John quickly. She had told him her real name was Renesmee several times, but he didn't seem to get it. She shook her head, deciding it didn't matter, and walked quickly toward her car, John trailing a few steps behind. The parking lot was nearly empty, only a few vehicles remained. Most of them were run down and beaten up by life, so it was natural that a shiny white Hummer caught her attention.

_I wonder who that belongs to?_

It seemed out of place among the beat-up Fords and Hondas. She clutched her purse tighter and quickened her pace.

"Do you know who that car belongs to, John?"

"I've seen it here a few times, but I've never seen the person driving it. It doesn't belong to one of the girls, though. I would have remembered that. Do you think I should check it out?"

Renesmee thought John should check out his brain, but kept the thought from voicing it. She was a little leery, though. A strange car parked in the lot of a strip club closed for the evening didn't bode well. It was common knowledge strippers carried large amounts of money after work. This was the reason John escorted her to the car. He would be the first line of defense if someone jumped out attempting to rob her.

She looked at John, gauging his stature. She should have asked Fred to escort her. He definitely would have been better protection. Moving toward her 2000 Dodge Neon, Renesmee looked through the large back panel window of the H2.

Someone was sitting inside.

Her pulse quickened, and she reached inside her purse, intent on retrieving her cell phone, her pace quickening toward her car.

It could be someone's boyfriend, but she wanted to be ready just in case. Her shoulders jumped when she heard a car door clam.

Stiffening, she turned toward the noise, cell phone in hard and ready to run a deer being chased by a tiger. She wanted to get a good look at her attacker so she could finger them in a line up. If she actually made it to a line up, she amended.

It wasn't a mugger approaching, but the man's purposeful look scared Renesmee more than a would-be robber.

_Jacob Black._

"Don't come any closer," John said, fear trembling his voice.

Jacob didn't pause.

"I have some Mace in my pocket. I don't want to spray you, buster."

Renesmee rolled her eyes to the stick figure of a man standing next to her. Some bouncer.

"It's okay, John. I-I know him." Renesmee wished there wasn't a grain of truth to the statement, but she did know the tall, dark, handsome man walking toward them. Knew him better than she would have liked to.

"I told you not to come here," she snarled angrily.

Since killing and maiming weren't in the cards tonight, she faced this new threat with a measure of ease. A small measure of ease, she rectified, but still some nonetheless.

"And I told you not to order me around like some lackey," Jacob said in a strong voice, shifting his narrowed black gaze to John. "Tell him to go," he ordered.

Renesmee opened her mouth to tell Jacob where he could go, when John answered, forestalling her angry tirade. "I'll leave when Renesmee tells me it's okay."

Renesmee reassessed her earlier evaluation. _John had some balls after all_. It was a lighthearted thought, and would have brought a smile to her face if it weren't for Jacob's menacing gaze.

He turned toward her, his statement clear as crystal. "Either you tell him to go, or I make him go."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and gestured to John. "It's okay. I'll be alright."

She reached in her wallet for his customary tip, thinking he deserved a little more than the ten-dollars she'd planned on giving him earlier.

Jacob was quicker though. He already had a large wad of cash in his hand, and peeled off what looked like a hundred dollar bill.

"Wow! Thanks."

Renesmee rolled her eyes. So much for bravery, she thought. Give the man some money and he left her defenseless. She shook her head, and waited until John was out of hearing distance.

"Is that it? You think because you have money everyone's obliged to do what you say?" She stared at Jacob angrily.

Jacob sighed loudly. "I'm tired of playing these games with you, Nessie."

"What games?" she asked in fury, turning rapidly to walk toward her car. She could hear the hound of his steps, pounding the pavement behind her.

"You know what I'm talking about," he said.

"No, I don't know what you're talking about," she lied, almost to the car.

Renesmee did know what he was talking about, however. It would be the same thing he'd said consistently for the past three weeks. He wanted to see her, wanted to get to know her.

She thought after their sexual encounter in the private room three weeks ago, she'd seen the last of him, but that wasn't the case. Jacob kept coming back to the Fuego, though she categorically refused to dance for him, and repeatedly told him to "fuck off."

"How long are you planning to keep this up?" he asked, his voice very close now.

Renesmee struggled with her car keys, ignoring him. She couldn't deal with a man like him; didn't want to deal with a man like him. She thought her best friend Kim was out of her mind for even contemplating getting along with Jared, Jacob's brother. She had called her several different types of fool, but her friend turned a deaf ear. She knew it was only a matter of time before Kim got hurt. Renesmee planned to be there to help pick up the pieces, but she would be damned if she would join in the madness.

"Will you just go away?" she hissed, fighting for control. Her hands shook so badly, she keyed her own car trying to open the door.

"I'm tired of this, Nessie. I want you. You know I want you," Jacob said calmly.

His words sent a tremor of ache through her body.

_NO!_

She would not give in. Not give in to this man, his money, or his domineering ways. No matter how much her body craved surrender.

She snorted. "Well, _I_ don't want _you_."

"You are a liar," he said softly, turning her roughly to face him. Her keys dropped to the ground, and she stared up into piercing black eyes.

"No," she protested, but it was too late.

Jacob's lips descended and their mouths fused in a blaze of overwrought passion. He backed her against the car with the hard planes of his body, and it felt like aftershock shook the ground. His mouth tender, he swept through all her barriers, his tongue invading like a bold conqueror.

He tasted like pungent cognac, and the essence of the man himself. Renesmee felt buzzed and amplified, like a current of electricity.

Their tongues mated in sensual bliss, and she was unable to deny the swift arousal in her body.

Over and over their tongues swirled inside each other's mouth, devouring and another. Renesmee gave in to the raging inferno, and entwined her hands in Jake's thick dark hair, pulling him closer.

A car horn blared suddenly in the background, and Renesmee froze.

"Get off me," she spat, wiping her mouth and pushing Jacob with all the strength she possessed.

He stumbled back, and tried to grasp hold of her again, but she quickly bent to pick up her keys. Holding them out in front of her like a weapon, she said forcefully, "I don't know what your problem is, but if I see you skulking around her again, I'm going to call the cops."

It was a bluff. She would never call the cops, but she didn't want to play this game. She tool a deep breath, and stared at him determinedly. Instead of looking worried, like a normal man might, Jacob smiled.

"Call them, Nessie. Call anyone you want, but I'm not leaving here. I've told you that before."

He stepped closer, ignored her outstretched arms, and pulled her body flush against his.

The press of his arousal poked against her stomach. "I always get what I want, Nessie. And I want you."

"Stop this. Please don't do this to me," she whispered.

Jacob thrust her away from him angrily. "I could kill him," he uttered.

She looked at him in confusion, and tried to regain the control he had taken so ruthlessly. "Who?"

"Whoever made you so afraid. What's his name, Nessie?"

She licked her lips nervously, bout feigned ignorance. "I don't know what you're talking about. For the last time, leave me alone."

Jacob shook his head, and looked skyward, as if he needed answers only divinity could give. When his gaze fastened on her, she saw the resolution blazing. "You still don't get it do you? This thing between us is not going to go away. I'm not going to let it go away. Do you understand that?"

Renesmee shivered as a cool Northern wind passed and it chilled her to the bone. She was dressed warmly, in a heavy cream colored sweat suit, but it felt like the temperature had dropped to below freezing. She turned her back to him, and finally after a few tries opened the car door.

"I won't be your plaything, Jake. Not now. Not ever."

Jacob placed a restraining hand on her shoulder before she could slide into her seat. "Have dinner with me?"

"It's two in the morning. There aren't any restaurants open." She tried to shrug loose from his grasp, but he tightened his grip and held firm.

"There's a twenty-four hour diner down the street," he replied.

Renesmee's eyes widened in shock. She knew there was a diner down the street. A lot of the girls went there after their shift. They served great omelets, and home-style hast browns. She and Kim both loved the food and had gone there often.

"I-I have school tomorrow. I can't go," she said, and flushed from the small lie.

"Liar. Tomorrow's your day off."

Her body stiffened instantly, and she turned furious chocolate-brown eyes to Jacob. "How do you know I don't have school tomorrow? Have you been following me?"

A deep flush highlighted his bronze skin, and he looked away from her gaze.

"You bastard! How dare you invade my privacy? Who in the hell do you think you are?"

"It's not like that."

"Listen to me, Jacob, 'cause this is the last time I'm going to tell you." She stared at him, making sure she had his full attention. "Stop coming to the club. Stop bothering me, and don't you _ever_ invade my privacy again. I swear to you, if you do, I'm going to make you sorrier that you've ever been in your miserable life!"

She slid into the driver's seat, and angrily stuck the key in the ignition. She leaned over to close the door but it wouldn't budge.

"Let go of the door, Jacob," she ordered.

"Apparently, you're determined to do this the hard way, Renesmee. I'm warning you. Don't play with fire. You will get burned," he said softly.

"Just let go of the door. I'm tired and want to go home."

"I've tried." He shook his head and blew out through his nose in frustration. "I tried to do this the easy way, Nessie. I tried to give you time, but you've forced my hand."

Renesmee nearly flinched at the intense look in his eyes. She didn't understand the cryptic words, but more than that, she didn't understand the tingles of passion pooled in the pit of her belly.

She was grateful he couldn't see inside her. If he could, he could know what it was costing her not to throw her arms around him in surrender. She verged on losing a dangerous war.

A war she was determined to win at all cost.

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**Sneak-peek of Chapter One:**

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Bending her left leg at the knee to clasp the pole, making sure to keep her grip firm, Renesmee slid downward like a talented enchantress until the tips of her shoulders touched the floor. Her back now resting prone, she let her thighs fall wide to the side, utilizing her hands to caress the clothed portions of her breasts and stomach; the strident rhythms making her hips grind against the floor.

Dark, dirty green bills floated around, drifting about like tribute to a heathen goddess.

Indeed, she felt powerful and very aware.

Rolling onto her stomach, the men in the club hollered again as she rose on all fours like a female panther stalking her prey.

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_**-Review!-**_


	2. CHAPTER ONE

_**Author's Note:**_ Nom nom nom.

**_Disclaimer:_** I don't own anything.

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CHAPTER ONE

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_There might have been a time  
When I would give myself away  
Once upon a time I didn't give a damn  
But now, here we are so whatya want from me?_

_- Adam Lambert, Whatya Want From Me

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_

_One Month Later . . ._

"C'mon, babe, I got a million songs in my head. What do you want to dance to?"

Renesmee cocked her head to the side, watching as a stream of men plowed through the turnstile of the Fuego.

The melodious piano intro from Coldplay's "Clocks" drummed through the speakers, and she tapped her fingers against her thigh, harmonizing with the music. Glancing down at her smooth expanse of legs showcased by a super short, spaghetti-strapped, one-piece, dark red, velvet mini skirt, Renesmee was surprised.

For the first time in her three years of dancing, her knees were shaking.

She shifted her apprehensive gaze toward Fred, AKA, _Fred the Man_. "I don't know. I don't know what I feel like. I can't decide."

"Renny, this isn't like you, doll. Why don't you go for a Metallica? You're the only girl in here who can dance to them. Or maybe we should go for some old school, some Duran maybe?"

Renesmee shifted her gaze once more. "I don't know. Why don't you choose something? I just want to get it over with."

"What's the stress, hon? The men are horny, and there are plenty to go around tonight. You could dance to Pat Benatar and it wouldn't matter."

The flickering, multi-colored glare from the stage cast shards of light into her eyes, and without conscious thought her sight settled on a glittering, familiar gaze.

"Just play something. I don't care what it is," she muttered.

"You don't have to go up there, ya know?"

Startled, Renesmee broke free of the powerful stare. Jutting her chin forward, she clenched her teeth in determination. "No, I'll be fine. Just play something. Go with something you think will be the best."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, play whatever you like. I'll be fine."

"I doubt that, doll. But, how about we go with a set of classic Soundgarden?" Fred grinned, wriggling his eyebrows as he twisted knobs in his lighted DJ booth. "Rusty Cage? Outshined?"

The corners of Renesmee's lips lifted as memories of grating guitar strings played in her head. "Grunge is good for me."

"Alrighty, then. Go on and get dressed. Take your time. I'll keep the crowd hot until you're ready."

Renesmee yearned to assure Fred she _was_ ready, but as her eyes fixed on the marble-topped, rectangular stage — sparkling lights like shiny candy for the taking — she knew she wasn't.

Shutting her lids, she waited a moment before lifting them again, her breath catching as her eyes, again, clashed with a dark, heated stare.

The whoops and hollers echoing through the club reminded her of jungle-like mating calls of animals — wild and frenzied with lust.

The pungent aroma of musk hung heavy like the smoke for Indian incense, teasing her nostrils.

The blaring music ricocheted through her eardrums with the beat of her desire.

Renesmee couldn't stop the jitters trilling down her spine. She didn't feel the fun she normally felt. Fear tightened the muscles in her stomach, forcing her head to turn away from the piercing, intent look.

Blinking at Fred's expectant gawk, she finally stuttered, "J-just give me a c-couple of minutes, o-okay?"

"You got it, sweetie. Holler at me when you're ready."

Renesmee nodded and walked toward the dressing room. Her shoes slid against the soft carpet, the pointy soles catching and making her stumble. She took a deep breath and picked up her feet, resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder to see if those memorable black eyes were still watching.

As she reached for the golden handle of the dressing room, the door swung wide, causing a shaft of light to spread across her eyes. Renesmee recoiled against the glare, before blinking Alice Sennett's petite, pixie-like stature into focus.

"I was about to look for you. Rachel says you have to go on stage." Alice gasped, pulling Renesmee inside with undue haste.

"I'm about to go on. I was just coming in to find a new outfit."

"No! I told her you couldn't because of that _weirdo_."

"He's not a weirdo . . ." Renesmee stopped herself, realizing she was protecting the very man she was scared of seeing.

Regrouping, she walked past Alice, pushing her way into the dressing room. "Don't stress it. Tell her I'm about to go on."

"Are you sure? You've been a basket case ever since this dude started coming into the club. You haven't even been on the stage in a month. Maybe you should go home, Renesmee. There's no need to tempt fate."

The suggestion had a lot merit. Renesmee pondered it before dismissing it out of hand. She had to get this over with.

"I can't, Alice. I've got bills and they won't get paid if I don't make any money."

"Well, if you're sure. I guess you should. But, be warned," Alice's face scrunched into a pensive frown, "he's got a look about him tonight."

"What do you mean?" Renesmee asked, taking a seat in one of the vacant leather chairs."

"I mean, that since he's been coming here, I've never seen him look so dangerous. Seriously, girl, I don't think you should go out there."

"I don't really have a choice. Do I?"

"I'm for real, Renny. Don't go out there. This guy means business. I don't know what you did to him. And frankly, I don't want to know, but trust me when I say he _is_ serious."

That really wasn't a surprise.

Renesmee was about to open her mouth to repeat the trite 'I'm fine' expression, when a loud commotion across the room halted her before she could speak.

"You don't dance for my customer, bitch! I told you that before!"

"It's a free country, Cynthia! And you don't own him!"

Renesmee rolled her eyes and shook her head, reaching to grab the make-up case sitting near her heeled feet. She had wanted to change clothes, but the arguing changed her mind.

"I can't believe those two are at it again," Alice murmured. "You'd think they'd do a duo for the guy and save themselves the hassle."

Renesmee chuckled in spite of herself. "But then they wouldn't be able to flight all the time. Where would the fun be if they didn't?"

"Personally, I think they're gay and trying not to fall in love."

Glancing over her shoulder at Amber and Cynthia, she took in their flushed postures and eager combative stares.

_Hmmm_ . . . There _was_ something sparking between them. Guffawing, Renesmee remarked, "I wouldn't doubt it."

Smiling, she turned back toward the mirror to apply more makeup, her mind tuning out the argument, music and Alice standing over her like a guardian angel, so she could concentrate.

An image of a girl with long, golden brown hair and wide, chocolate-brown eyes mimicked her every moment, and Renesmee dropped her hand to lean closer to the mirror.

Once upon a time, long ago, she had liked working for the Fuego, but now with Kim gone, things weren't the same.

Kimberly Houston, her best friend, had worked at the club for the last two of the three years Renesmee had been dancing. She smiled, remembering walking Kim around her first day.

Dan, _the Jerk_, was still the manager, and Fred had been about twenty pounds lighter. Melissa and Rachel were still dancing. The Fuego had been different — the same really, but different for her.

A part of Renesmee wished to return to those days of old, when times were less problematic. But deep down inside, she knew she couldn't. The growing restlessness inside her soul wouldn't go away. The haunting eyes following her every move were watching — always watching — making her want things Renesmee knew she shouldn't

Blinking back the sudden moisture in her eyes, Renesmee knew she'd been dancing for too long. She had never planned on making this a career. Yet, already she felt like she'd been at it for eons.

Closing her eyes, Renesmee turned away from the mirror, the decision clear.

Tonight would be her last dance. And after that . . . _Jacob Black_ could go to hell!

"Are you sure you want to do this, Renesmee?" Alice asked, tapping her on the shoulder to regain her attention.

Renesmee stared once more at the young woman in the mirror, before turning what she hoped was a determined gaze toward Alice.

"Yes. It's time."

Fred's loud voice echoed through the club with persistence, causing heads to turn and anticipation to heighten.

"Alright, gentlemen, we have a special treat for you. Get those bills, hundreds, I mean, ready for the treat of your lives. Tonight, I'm bringing to the stage a special lady. She'd been missing from action for a while, but she's back with a vengeance dancing to one of my favorite bands. So, be prepared to moan . . . scream . . . and holler . . . FOOOOORRRR . . . Vanessa!"

Renesmee didn't feel the carpet beneath her feet or the men staring at her with lust.

It was as though the world faded away, so only she could hear the music pounding through the speakers.

Swaying her hips, the high stilettos moved her body in captivating angles as she walked up the stairs, the strident strings of Soundgardens's "Rusty Cage" echoing loudly.

The music took hold of her like it always did, and Renesmee lost herself, letting the beats lead her motions. Her hips bumped in sequence and rolled with a rhythm she knew looked pagan, forbidden.

Grabbing one of the poles placed at the end of the stage, Renesmee bent forward, sweeping her long auburn tresses until the strands rested between her legs at the base of her spread ankles. The super-short skirt she wore rose to just under her butt cheeks, highlighting her muscular limbs. The crisp, red satiny material of her g-string stretched until it nestled like a glove against her shaved pussy.

As she trailed one hand up the soft curve of her inner thigh, teasing and enticing, Renesmee swayed her hips back and forth with flourish, before finally raising her head so she stood straight and tall.

Tensing the muscles in her arms, so they acted as an anchor, she kicked both her white stilettos from the floor. Inherent motion rotated her entire body with the force of inertia, and Renesmee held to the golden symbol of virility, while her long legs formed a tilted 'V'.

Loud, raucous cheers greeted her skilled, acrobatic movements, but she tuned the sounds out once more, concentrating on her actions and the music.

Bending her left leg at the knee to clasp the pole, making sure to keep her grip firm, Renesmee slid downward like a talented enchantress until the tips of her shoulders touched the floor. Her back now resting prone, she let her thighs fall wide to the side, utilizing her hands to caress the clothed portions of her breasts and stomach; the strident rhythms making her hips grind against the floor.

Dark, dirty green bills floated around, drifting about like tribute to a heathen goddess.

Indeed, she felt powerful and very aware.

Rolling onto her stomach, the men in the club hollered again as she rose on all fours like a female panther stalking her prey.

Renesmee couldn't hear them, though. All her senses were frozen on one man amongst the throng who didn't cheer.

She almost flinched backwards when he rose suddenly from his seat. His thick, cropped dark hair tousled, as though he'd been running his fingers through it repeatedly. His jaw clenched into a merciless frown of retribution.

He's going to leave, Renesmee though, while at the same time cursing herself for feeling anything about it.

Yet . . . he didn't.

Instead, the darkly clad figure sat back down, his large fingers clutched around a silver money clip. Without a care, he tossed the money on the stage.

Renesmee paused, knowing what that meant.

The bills would be nothing but hundreds, probably thousands of dollars.

The course of his actions was crystal clear.

Jacob Black had made it known numerous times.

He would pay anything and everything for her — and he would not be denied.

Renesmee couldn't help the slight prickles of awareness moving down her spine. His commanding ways should frighten her, but instead she felt a pull so strong, she had difficulty denying it.

She should be outraged. Instead, she felt a slow burn of warmth generating deep inside her belly, the feeling spread, moving outward and into her limbs.

Scowling, she pushed the dangerous feeling from her body with force, and lowered her head to sweep her hair along the black-topped stage.

Fred only played two minutes of each song, and if her internal counting was correct, "Rusty Cage" would soon be followed by "Outshined."

Renesmee usually liked to wait to take her clothes off, the first song being the intro — the prelude to desire.

Yet this time, things had to be different.

Creeping toward Jacob, Renesmee arched her back, pushing her cloth-laden breasts downward so her distended nipples scrapped the floor.

Jacob narrowed his dark eyes, staring at her with a hard, cold expression.

Specters of vulnerability crawled across her skin, but still she pressed forward as her ears picked up on the abrupt shift in the music; to the drums telling her the rhythm had changed.

Shifting back onto her haunches, Renesmee undulated her body until both her legs pushed outward. She crossed her ankles to steady her movements until she landed horizontally in front of Jacob, her heels facing him.

From this position he'd be able to see her body highlighted by all the seductive bumps and curves.

Without conscious thought, her thighs fell to either side, allowing him — and only him — an up-close and personal view every man in the club was aching to glimpse.

Her hands touched her g-sting, pulling the fabric so it massaged against her clit. She knew the fleshy lips of her pussy were peeking past the thin line, but Renesmee didn't care. She was angry, frustrated and hurt. The reckless need to punish Jacob was all she could think about.

This is what _he_ wanted — a body designed to please him. Well, she'd show him. Rocking on her spine to bring her legs beneath her so she could rise to a standing position, Renesmee looked down at Jacob with fury rioting through her pores.

The dangerous emotions coursing through her body were in tune with the violent song blaring from the speakers. Beats roaring in her head like drums of war, she grabbed one of the spaghetti straps on her shoulders, pulling on the thin material until it left her skin to reveal one plump breast.

Antagonism, dark and scorching hot, fired the blood in her veins. She hated the way he made her feel, and even now when she as in control, Jacob easily held the reins.

The crowd cheered, but Renesmee kept her stare glued to the dark, powerful man below her as she walked in a slow circle above him, finally tearing free the rest of her dress.

Clad now in only her red g-string and stilettos, she kicked loose the material pooled around her ankles, absently watching it float to the back of the room. Two quick and hasty moves later, she removed her flimsy panties.

Jacob stayed still, his hands pinned to his sides, a muscle ticking in his jaw, his eyes promising retribution later.

Renesmee lifted the corners of her lips in return, taunting him, but her smile wasn't one of seduction. It was one of challenge.

Lowering on all flours like a sleek cat, she slowly rocked forwards and backwards, her actions mimicking a man — this man in front of her — fucking her from behind.

Her naked body flushed from her dance, Renesmee crawled closer toward Jacob, using the golden rail around the stage to steady herself until her lips were inches from his face.

The people in the club would think she was working to entice him, but she knew better.

"Is this what you want?" she asked, her free hand grazing across her breasts. "You want to _fuck_ me?"

The look blazing from his eyes answered the question without him even uttering a word.

As he leaned closer, Renesmee could see Jacob's chest heaving with exertion.

"You push when you should retreat, Nessie."

"I'm trying to make a point," she gritted through clenched teeth, frowning at his fearless expression. "This is it! No more. I won't be back here tomorrow or the next night. Find some other girl to fixate on and leave me _alone_."

Even though the music played loudly, there was deafening silence after her statement.

Jacob's lips pinched tight. Under the colored lights the angry flush highlighting his cheeks made him look harsh — unforgiving. "Go put some clothes on before I beat your delectable little ass, Nessie."

"You don't own me, Jacob. This thing between us . . . it's over and I better never, ever see you again."

Jacob smiled, but Renesmee could still see the anger sparking in his eyes.

"Get. Off. This. Stage. Or I swear to God, Nessie, you will regret this moment for as long as you live."

Rearing back, she couldn't help but take note of the seriousness in Jacob's tone. Her eyes wide, she rose shakily on her heels, ignoring the shouts around her, ignoring the fact that the set was still playing.

Moving toward the stairs, not even pausing to collect her money, Renesmee ran like a fleet —footed gazelle.

Absently she noticed Alice standing at the bottom of the stairs, a worried look in her eyes.

"I'll get your stuff and deal with Rachel. Get out of here . . . while you still can."

Renesmee took heed of the words this time, and ran as fast as her stilettos would allow for the dressing room, recalling Jacob's heated words.

_Don't play with fire. You'll get burned.

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_

**Sneak-preview of the next chapter:**

* * *

She was almost there, the dusty exterior of her car gleamed in the yellowish lights, and she breathed deeply, fumbling with the keys. A thick, plastic insignia rubbed against her fingers and Renesmee grasped the electronic opener in her hands, aiming it to open the door.

Even from a distance, she could hear the click of locks snapping open and she stumbled slightly in relief. The length of the parking lot still stretched between her and the car, so she ran faster, her soft soles pounding against the pavement.

She would make it. She could feel success beating in tune with the rapid pace of her heart. There wasn't anyone following her. Jacob wasn't following her.

Landing against the car door with a huff, Renesmee grasped the cool metal of the door handle. The swishing sounds of cars speeding by sounded in her ears, and she pictured herself as one of those speeding motorists, riding off into the night.

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_**-Review. You think Renesmee can run away from Jacob that easily?-**_


	3. CHAPTER TWO

_**Author's Note:**_ Your reviews mean so much to me. Thanks you, guys!

_**Disclaimer:**_ Me no own this. Lol.

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CHAPTER TWO

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_I get so high when you're with me  
But crash and crave you when you leave_

_- Ke$ha, You're Love Is My Drug

* * *

_

Renesmee hit the door like the hounds of Hell were biting at her heels. She couldn't get in the dressing room fast enough. Breathing harshly, she leaned against the wooden panels, trying to catch her breath. Her knees shook and she grabbed them, bending over to steady their restless shaking.

She didn't care about the gazes staring at her, nor the hushed silence stealing about the room. The only thing on her mind was getting out of the club as quickly as she could.

Kicking off her five-inch heels, she walked with haste on her normal five foot four frame, toward her locked possessions located in the back corner.

When she kneeled next to her three-foot, gold trimmed green chest, Renesmee recounted the numbers in her head, twisting the knob of her combo lock until it fell open in her hand. Pushing up the lid, she dug around until she found a comfortable t-shirt, a pair of sweats, and brassiere.

The stale scent of body spray hung in the air, and she wiped at her nose, huffing, as she donned the bra and reached around her back to fasten the clasp. Next, she pulled on her t-shirt, sweats, and a spare set of running shoes she kept for emergencies.

"You're not planning on leaving, are you?"

Gasping, Renesmee started, looking up into Rachel Carter's narrowed hazel-green stare.

"I-I have to go. I can't work tonight," she sputtered to the newest manager of the Fuego. "Some things have come up and I _have_ to leave."

Rachael shook her head, peering down. "Renesmee, I can't keep tolerating this. You are one of the best performers, but your behavior of late has been shoddy. When Melissa comes back, I'm going to have to tell her about this."

Anxiety trilled down her spine. This conversation was taking too long. Jacob would know she was leaving . . . and he'd be waiting.

"Fine! Tell her. I don't care. I have to leave, though."

"What in the world is going on? Is there someone out there bothering you?"

Flinching, Renesmee paused for a moment, her fingers clutching her purse. She would have liked to say Jacob Black was harassing her, but she couldn't lie about the situation — or him. _She_ was the problem, her own restless desire for a man who scared the living daylights out of her made for a complicated life.

She really couldn't explain all that to Rachel.

Closing the lid of her chest, locking and twisting the combo lock, Renesmee pulled the thick fall of her hair from her collar, before shifting to face Rachel.

"Look. I just have to go. There are a lot of things going on right now, things I can't discuss. If you're going to fire me, fine. But, I have to go."

Rachael scrutinized her for a moment longer, slanting her chin to the side before a faint resignation appeared in her eyes. "Get out of here. Just be sure to call tomorrow, so I know you're safe."

Renesmee lifted her lips, hoping it resembled a smile, before pulling the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. "Thanks, Rachael. I appreciate it." Hesitating, she stared around the room. "Can I use the back door? The one near the private areas?"

Rachel inclined her head again and sighed, "Sure."

Why didn't she tell Rachel this was her last night?

Shaking her head, Renesmee decided it didn't matter. This would be her last night at the Fuego. She couldn't take one more moment here because she knew Jacob would never give in.

As the depressing thought of leaving a place she'd learned to call a second home careened in her mind, she turned her head to look once more at the dressing room. She grinned sadly, memories invading her mind, before dismissing the thoughts and moving toward the exit.

If she was lucky, she could make it out the back entrance without being noticed.

Pushing open the door leading into the dim interior of the club, Renesmee waited a moment for her eyes to adjust. Hazy shapes formed into solid images and she stepped forward, moving against the walls like a thief stealing from the coffers.

"Renesmee," a hushed voice called, sounding above the music.

With a frightened gasp, she turned to face the whispered tones. "What is it, Alice? I'm about to leave."

"I know, but I wanted to give you this," Alice murmured, thrusting a fist of money into nerveless fingers. "I got your clothes, too, but I'll put them in my locker. I'll cash you out with Rachael from my own pocket, and you can just pay me back later."

"Thanks," Renesmee said, her chest tightening with gratitude.

"May the blessings of the Goddess go with you, girl, 'cause you're going to need them."

_Blessings of the Goddess?_

"Thanks again, Alice. I just hope somebody's something is with me."

Laughing, Alice grabbed hold of Renesmee's arms, pulling her into a light embrace. "They are. Trust in yourself, you can handle this. Everything in your life has prepared you for this moment. Remember that."

Renesmee wasn't sure about that. Nothing in her life has prepared her for Jacob Black.

Smiling once more at Alice, she turned and rushed out the door.

There were really only three things a person could do if they were being stalked.

Call the police. That was the most careful and well thought out plan of attack.

Hide out or move to another town. That was a less developed idea, but still very efficient.

Or . . . they could try and ignore the threat.

That was the notion risked by fools and idiots Renesmee admitted to herself, as she peeked around the shadowed corners of the building. She'd definitely been on the course of plan number three.

Sighing, careful to keep her breathing quite, Renesmee realized she might have done a lot of things different, but none of that really mattered now. The only important option was getting to her car and driving off.

Glimpsing her Dodge in the distance, she figured it would take her a full thirty seconds to reach the driver's side if she ran like hell.

Yanking her keys from the bottom of her handbag, she tossed a look at her feet.

_Just Do It._

Heeding the motto, Renesmee moved rapidly, her legs pumping in a sprint. The light above her glared, and she cursed under her breath, wishing she could have some darkness.

Her red leather purse bounced at her side, and she placed a hand against the soft material, keeping it closer to her body.

She was almost there, the dusty exterior of her car gleamed in the yellowish lights, and she breathed deeply, fumbling with the keys. A thick, plastic insignia rubbed against her fingers and Renesmee grasped the electronic opener in her hands, aiming it to open the door.

Even from a distance, she could hear the click of locks snapping open and she stumbled slightly in relief. The length of the parking lot still stretched between her and the car, so she ran faster, her soft soles pounding against the pavement.

She would make it. She could feel success beating in tune with the rapid pace of her heart. There wasn't anyone following her. Jacob wasn't following her.

Landing against the car door with a huff, Renesmee grasped the cool metal of the door handle. The swishing sounds of cars speeding by sounded in her ears, and she pictured herself as one of those speeding motorists, riding off into the night.

Opening the door, ready to get inside, Renesmee wasn't prepared for the large slamming it shut, or his other one hand grasping the heaving column of her throat.

"Are you going somewhere?"

Dropping her keys, she sputtered, "No . . . just go away, Jacob. I don't want this!"

"I'll tell you what you want and don't want from now on, Nessie. And, you already know these little games you play are useless." His harsh voice whispered against her ear. "Now it's my turn to play with you."

"Please go away, Jacob. I don't want you," she gasped, her chest pounding with the effort.

"You are such a liar. You don't think I can't feel the trembling?" His frame pressed closer, his large, hardened cock pushed against her buttocks. "You don't think I know what you want . . . what you need?"

"You don't know anything about me. I'm just a body. Someone you want to fuck! Someone you want to control."

"Is that the reason why you went on stage and showed those men what's mine?" His hot breath muffled in her hair. "I told you not do that."

She leaned forward, his grasp against her throat lessened, and Renesmee laid her head against the metal of her car. "You don't own me, Jacob."

"I _do_ own you, body and soul, Nessie. You'd best never forget it either," he muttered, before pulling at the cinched waistband of her sweats. "I had wanted to take this slow, but you pushed and pushed and pushed. Now you have to pay the consequences. I would ask if your pussy is wet, but I don't need to because I know it is. I could see it from the _stage_," he muttered.

Feeling her pants drop to her knees, Renesmee tried to struggle against Jacob, but the hand on her neck moved to clutch her nape as his large frame pressed her harder against the car, halting any further movement.

Dimly Renesmee realized that in her haste she'd forgotten to put on panties, leaving her vulnerable. With just a simple flick of his wrist, she was open to Jacob, the cooling breeze of the night caressing across her naked buttocks.

Distant portions of her mind continued to struggle against his dominance, but as his rich cologne scent fanned around her, the need to submit, the desire to give over all control, pulsed through her.

The tip of Jacob's cock pushed into the folds of her wet pussy, and her mind screamed with desire.

Her hips bucked, welcoming him further into her.

_I want him. Lord help me. I want this man so bad._

He thrust deep inside.

Hard and strong just as she remembered; Renesmee was powerless to oppose the virile thrusts lifting her to her tippy-toes.

"Who does this pussy belong to?"

"You!" she panted, feeling the full length of his cock pumping over and over.

"Tell me who it belongs to. Say my name, so I know it belongs to me."

"Oh, God, Jacob! You OWN me. I swear to God!"

Jacob groaned, leaning his chest against her back, his thick girth pounding into her flesh.

Renesmee's breasts smashed against the window of her car as he continued to stroke, plunging into her body without remorse, his testicles slapping against the tissues of her cunt.

"Then why were you up on that stage showing all those men the body that belongs to me?"

"I-I don't know. I-I didn't mean it. I-I swear. Please . . . please don't stop," she whimpered.

"Do you _want_ me to keep fucking you, Nessie?"

"Yes," she moaned, helpless under the onslaught.

Jacob growled, released the hold on her neck, and clasped both his large hands on her waist to lift her tennis-shoed feet from the ground.

Now completely on a level with his pulverizing thrust, Renesmee screamed for mercy, hearing her heated cries echo into the night.

Shifting her blurry gaze, the door of the Fuego materialized, and Renesmee realized they were still in the parking lot. Anyone who happened to come out of the club would see them. There would be no denying what was going on.

"Someone will see us," she moaned, knowing she'd be powerless to stop Jacob if he wanted to show the world their lust.

"You don't want them to see me owning you," Jacob gritted, "but you'll show them your body?"

His logic was astounding, but with the pleasure rippling through her, Renesmee could do no more than scream again. Jacob fucked her like their very lives were at stake, deeply thrusting into her pussy. She had no control whatsoever over the hard, plunging strokes.

Clenching her palms, her fingertips scratched against the surface of her car as cascades of sheeting fire washed through her, and suddenly an orgasm, unlike any she'd ever known rocked her body.

The clenched muscles of her pussy contracted on his cock, and Jacob grunted low in his throat, his body tensing — hardening — with expectant release.

"God, baby! I just want to take care of you. That's it," he breathed, seconds before hot fluid splashed against her insides.

Cars rolled by and the bright lights of the parking lot continued to shine, but Jacob kept his cock lodged inside her pulsing pussy.

Out of control and daunting by the power of their mating, Renesmee laid her head against the cool metal of her Neon, breathing erratically.

She needed another minute or two to regroup, but a sudden, loud spate of guttural laughter made her tense in horror.

Jacob acted quickly, wrapping his muscular arms around her upper torso, his cock shuddering inside her sensitive pussy as he walked them toward the darkened concealed corner of the parking lot.

Shadowed in the darkness, Renesmee waited, her breath blowing out in smoky gasps.

Several doors slammed at once, and the sound of an engine turned over. The crunch of tires rolling against the pavement signaled the departure of their unknowing companions.

Sighing, she let her body droop with languid tiredness. The weight of her frame sagged, and Jacob finally let her feet fall to the ground. As soon as her shoes touched the pavement, she was unsteady, wobbly. Easing against Jacob's hard planes, she used him like an anchor, even though as part of her mind knew that was a bad idea.

"Relax, baby. I've got you."

Lowering her head until her chin rested against her chest, Renesmee sighed. "I know you've got me, Jacob. Problem is you don't want to let go."

"I can't, Nessie. When I close my eyes at night all I can see is you."

"I can't do this, Jacob. You-you and I . . . we aren't suited."

He turned her limp body to face him. His handsome, shadowed face peered down at her. "Says who?" Jacob asked.

She wished there was better light. The haunting darkness made her want to believe in the veracity of his words.

"What do I have to do to make you trust me, Nessie? I've already put everything . . ." he stopped, exhaling noisily, "everything on hold for you. But I still can't make a move until you say you're ready. I need you, Nessie, like I know you need me."

Stepping away, Renesmee grabbed at the sweat pants pooled around her feet. "I can't . . . I'm not the girl you want. I-I just can't . . ."

"Can't what? Tell me, Nessie. What the _fuck_ is this all about?"

"I can't be the person you need me to be. I just . . . can't," she whispered, her chest pummeled by the emotions reeling inside.

Jacob stared at her for a long moment, his eyes narrowed to black slits of fire. The harsh angles created from the darkness of the corner made him look grim beyond measure.

"That's not good enough."

"Well, I don't know what else to tell you," she screamed.

"I knew you'd be determined to do this the hard why. Get your things. We're leaving."

"I'm not going with you, Jacob."

The pupils of his eyes dilated until the colors appeared jet black. He stepped forward, his tall frame seductive, yet menacing at the same time. "You're not?"

Renesmee couldn't stop the fission of fear and desire crawling through her belly. A part of her knew it was insane to want a man whose power made her fear him in the extreme, but she couldn't help herself. The trepidation heightened her arousal, making her aware of his smell, his stance . . . his mood.

"I can't keep doing this, Jacob. You're driving me crazy," she sighed, nervously running her fingers through her hair.

Determination blazed from his eyes. "Get your things," he repeated.

Right then and there, Renesmee knew Jacob wouldn't take no for an answer.

Shaking her head, she felt her will bowing to his. "Where are we supposed to be going?"

"You'll find out when we get there."

* * *

**Sneak-preview of the next chapter:

* * *

**

"What are we doing here?" she asked, still fastened to her seat, her hands resting in her lap, fingers twitching.

Jacob leaned his head to the side, peering at her. "Get out of the car," he ordered.

Staying silent, Renesmee observed his rude behavior with mute resistance.

"Don't make me carry you inside. I guarantee you'll not like the results if I do."

Resting one muscled arm against the roof of the vehicle, Jacob blocked any escape she might have thought to make. As she raised her gaze, Renesmee stared into his face for a brief moment before running her eyes down the rest of his body.

* * *

_**-Review! Any idea where they're going?-**_


	4. CHAPTER THREE

_**Author's Note:**_ Check out the **pictures** of where Jacob has taken Nessie at my **profile page** — the house pictures and such. It's beautiful, and would make you wish you were Nessie.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

* * *

_And I will never try to deny that you are my whole world  
'Cause if you ever let me go I would die  
So I won't front, I don't need another woman  
I just need all or nothing  
'Cause if I got that then I'll be straight  
Baby, you're the best part of my day_

_- Chris Brown, With You

* * *

_

Jacob ground his jaw hard enough when Nessie pulled against his hold that he thought he might break a molar.

"I want to know where we're going."

She had no idea what type of fire she was playing with and it was best to keep it that way . . . for now.

Narrowing his eyes, he kept his voice controlled. "I said, you'll find out when we get there."

"I won't go with you unless I know where we're going."

"Did you think I was giving you a choice?"

Nessie looked startled, her mouth forming a delicate moue. "There are always choices, and I'm choosing not to go with you. So forget it!"

"But I just told you, Nessie. You don't have a choice."

"I'm not going with you, Jake!"

He laughed, listening to the tremor shaking her voice. "But you want to."

A telltale blush highlighted the oval shape of her face. "That doesn't mean I should."

Nessie stood so close to the precipice of desire, she was bound to plummet. He didn't want to hurt her. The gleam in her crystal brown eyes made him yearn to hold her close, assure her everything would be alright, but he couldn't let this situation continue on any longer.

Regretting that there wasn't another way, he lifted her chin so her gaze was leveled with his. "Is this all you have with you?" he asked, inclining his head toward the red leather bag lying on the pavement.

"Is this all you have with you?" he asked again, enunciating each word.

"Yes," she whispered, trying to avert her eyes, but not, he noted, attempting to pull away from his body.

The first step in overcoming her resistance had been accomplished.

Since he had met Nessie, that fateful night over a month ago, he'd taken it upon himself to discover everything about her. He'd watched her enough to know when she was discontent, angered, or worried. He also knew, first hand, when she was pleased, happy and excited.

Right now, though, she looked scared, aroused and desperate.

He'd cataloged each of her expressive features in his mind, reviewing them at his leisure, wondering what chemical compositions in her body made her act the way she did.

_Feisty and bold_. That was the way he would describe his beautiful and spirited lover. She had a temper. She was determined when needs be, and she was loyal to her friends. All those qualities were to be admired . . . cherished.

As he stared into her unturned face, he knew he was the only man for her. His soul called to hers. At night, when the ambient sounds of the city would quiet, his mind and body reached for hers.

He wanted Nessie with him . . . forever.

No other woman would do.

He knew what days she worked at the Fuego, so then and only then would he come to the club. He never danced with any of the painted face beauties, he kept his whole focus on Nessie, waiting and watching.

She'd come, see him and leave. That had been the pattern at first.

The few times she did stay, she didn't dance with anyone, but after a couple of weeks had passed, she began to take a few customers behind the smoky glass leading to the private couches.

Each time she disappeared behind the barrier with some intrigued, following fool, he had to restrain himself from going in after her.

He knew those moments were meant to scare him, hurt him. The few times they'd spoken in the intervening weeks, Nessie always had a choice repertoire of curse words and platitudes lined up.

The last time they'd spoken, he told her what he would do if she ever danced for another man, or on stage, again. His words had been hard, cruel even, but he'd been deadly serious. He'd known, even then, that he put her in an unenviable position. Of course, she had to work, but the time was fast approaching to bring her rebelliousness to heel, and Jacob felt pushed to the limit.

Up until tonight, she'd followed his dictates.

Tightening his jaw with suppressed fury, Jacob thought back to the sight of her lithe, enthralling body ascending to the stage. He had, at first, felt a consuming surge of lust, but when his gaze roamed around the room, looking into the eyes of the men staring at her. His desire had turned into a rage.

She'd defied him, pulling the very card that had been saving her ass all along. He had told her there would be consequences, now she was going to find out for herself.

"Get your keys and your purse."

Several moments passed but Nessie didn't move.

"Fine, then, we'll leave it here," Jacob growled, pulling her away.

"Wait. I-I'll get them," she muttered, retrieving her handbag.

Unerringly, his gaze fell to her heart-shaped ass and his cock twitched with desire.

Jacob knew, deep down inside his soul, every portion of her body was made for him. He could never have enough of her, and what he felt for Nessie revolved around more than just sex and domination.

He nodded toward her car. "Lock the doors," he commanded.

Mutinously, she raised her hand, pointing the electronic opener and triggering the locks.

Jacob smiled. "Good girl," he murmured. "You're learning."

IllI

"Wake up, my Nessie."

Startled, Renesmee immediately woke, twisting in the plush leather seat, pinned by the safety restraint crisscrossing her torso.

Wiping a speck of sleep from her eyes, she looked past the open car door at the line of trees reaching up to the emerging dawn. Drops of dew twinkled from the leaves, and in the distance she could hear the squeak of birds crying aloud. The fresh scent of unpolluted air teased her nostrils.

Looking around, Renesmee surmised that they must have been driving for a long time. They'd left the club around midnight, but already the bright haze from the sun filtered around, making her blink.

"Where are we?"

"At my brother's cabin in Mammoth Lakes."

Renesmee frowned, her brows creasing.

_What the hell?_ Mammoth had to be at least six hundred miles from the club.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, still fastened to her seat, her hands resting in her lap, fingers twitching.

Jacob leaned his head to the side, peering at her. "Get out of the car," he ordered.

Staying silent, Renesmee observed his rude behavior with mute resistance.

"Don't make me carry you inside. I guarantee you'll not like the results if I do."

Resting one muscled arm against the roof of the vehicle, Jacob blocked any escape she might have thought to make. As she raised her gaze, Renesmee stared into his face for a brief moment before running her eyes down the rest of his body.

Jacob looked rumpled — well as rumpled as a rich and powerful man could look — in his dark grey jeans and expensive black, buttoned shirt. His hair bore the distinct resemblance of someone who had spent hours running fingers through it. But his black eyes were sharp, alert. He didn't look tired in the least.

More moments passed as Renesmee debated whether or not she should get out of the car. Again, her gaze roamed around the lush, green scenery, the cackle of wildlife echoing in her ears.

Sighing, conceding this first round to Jacob, Renesmee undid her seat belt and lifted her stiff legs, flexing at the knee before stepping on the crunchy ground beneath her feet. She wobbled, shuddering with fatigue. She hadn't slept in a passenger seat since —

Banishing the errant thought, she looked up at Jacob. "Is force the only way you know?"

"It's the only way I know with you. Now _please_ let's get into the house. It's cold out here."

"Don't make me think you're suffering." Renesmee glared at him. "I know you're not cold."

"No, but it is time to go inside. I'm not going to let you sit out here all day."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so. Now move it."

Renesmee rolled her eyes before stepping under the fixture of his arm. "You were a bully in school, weren't you? A big mean, bully who stole other kid's lunch money for the hell of it, right?"

Ignoring the spate of laughter behind her, Renesmee walked up the driveway, careful to keep her features poised. The imposing structure took her breath away.

A huge log cabin, like something from the prairie days of old, stood nestled amongst the magnificence of nature. Painted in a light brown color, offsetting the rich greenery, the house brought forth ideas of home and hearth. Everything about the place beckoned to easier, softer times of the past. The half circled of logs lining the frame, the winging bench gracing the front corners of the porch, swaying haplessly with the wind, the thick-framed windows placed strategically around the exterior. Modern, yet aged, Renesmee had never seen a more beautiful building.

"This place is magnificent," she wondered aloud, impressed.

"My brother and I helped to build it," Jacob answered, pride evident in his tone.

"You and . . . Jared built this?" she asked, unable to stop the disbelief in her voice.

"We didn't do it all by ourselves, but we did spend an entire year here hammering, sawing and lifting."

Shaking her head, Renesmee glanced at him. "Why?"

"Because we both needed it," he said simply.

There was more behind his quick retort that Jacob let on, Renesmee knew, but she let it go because she already liked him too much. More knowledge about him would make it harder to let him go, and she _would_ have to let him go.

A cold wind blew through the trees, shaking leaves and dislodging pinecones. Renesmee rubbed her bare arms, goose bumps rising along her flesh. Stepping forward, she looked over the house once more, before turning her gaze toward the forest in the background.

Turning back toward Jacob, she lifted her chin, gathering her strength. "I don't know why you brought me here. I won't be your little woman."

"But you're already my woman, Nessie," he disagreed, closing the gap between them, his heated hands caressing and warming her skin. "I don't know what I have to do to convince you of it, but I am determined. I know what I want. And . . . I want you."

Renesmee laughed. "This isn't the Cro-Magnon era. You can't just drag me off by my hair. I have a job, school . . . and things I need to do."

"Tell me, Nessie. Look at me and tell me you don't shut your lids at night and see me behind them. Tell me, honestly," he paused, grasping hold of her cold hands, "but you have to look me in the eyes and tell me this."

A rush of air escaped from her lungs, mixing with the howling wind. "I can't deny that, Jacob. I-I can't say that I don't think of you, but this . . . thing between us. That's all it is. Just a thing," she whispered.

"It's more than that, Nessie."

"Jesus, Jake. I don't know what to say! You want me to tell you that I can't stop thinking about you . . . then fine. I can't stop thinking about you. But none of that matters! You and I can't be together. This . . ." Renesmee yanked her arms from his grasp, putting some distance between them. "This isn't going to work! I have a life a-and it doesn't include you."

Jacob clenched his fist, his breath whistling through his teeth.

Afraid she had pushed him too far; Renesmee took a hasty step back.

"Your life and mine are threaded together, Nessie. _Believe me_, I've thought about it. I will have you. There's nothing you can do to stop it."

"What if _I_ want to stop it?"

Jacob smiled, his pearly white teeth straight and glistening. "You are most welcome to try."

Renesmee expected that answer, but still she frowned at him, hoping to convey her displeasure.

For as long as she had known Jacob, his dominance, determination and zeal were the most glaring aspects of his personality. She'd known that, yet still had thrown a gauntlet to him the first evening they'd met . . . _Five thousand dollars for a dance_.

That's what brought her to this juncture. Had she heeded Kim's fraught tension that fateful night, and turned around to head back toward the dressing room, she wouldn't be standing here today. But she'd been drawn, almost against her will, toward him, and from that day forth, things had never been the same.

Her gaze moved over Jacob, and tingles coursed down her spine.

At the time, she'd denied the feeling to herself, and Kim, but later when he kept coming back to the club, she couldn't stop the feelings from taking control. Nevertheless, the fear of his encompassing nature allowed her to keep her distance.

Now, as she stood here looking at him, a scant three feet separating them, Renesmee wondered what it was about Jacob that had made her step to him so boldly?

She'd spent a lifetime raised in the school of hard knocks. She knew danger when she saw it, knew when to confront, when to retreat.

_So, why did you ever go up to him in the first place?_

The question in her mind begged to be answered, but Renesmee shook her head, turning away from Jacob to look back at the cabin.

"I have to go back on Monday. If you want to have a weekend fling . . . fine, but this can't go any further. I-I don't want it to go any further. I can't be the person you want."

The sound of crunching gravel sounded behind her. Lowering her head to her chest, she waited as his rich fragrance of spicy, tantalizing cologne surrounded her.

Arms like steel bands crossed her chest, nestling under her breasts, pulling her close to a heated source of warmth . . . and comfort.

"We'll see about that."

The heated words were whispered across her ear and it was as though a storm of anxiety released in her body. She bowed down to the feelings, afraid and beguiled.

She couldn't help herself.

Again her gaze lifted toward the vivid, encompassing scene around her, and the severity of the situation finally dawned on Renesmee.

She was alone with a forceful, demanding and dominant man, one she was drawn to even as everything in her tried to resist.

If she couldn't stop Jacob from taking control of her life, no one would be able to save her.

No one.

* * *

**Sneak-preview of the next chapter:

* * *

**

Renesmee shook her head. "I'm not going to familiarize myself with your house."

"Jared actually owns it, but over the years it's become a retreat for the entire family."

"I'm not family, though, am I?" she grumbled. "You and I both know why we are here, and it's not for rest and relaxation."

"Give it a break, will you?" he sighed. "If I only wanted to fuck you, we could have stayed in that parking lot."

* * *

_**-Don't forget to check out the pictures.-**_


	5. CHAPTER FOUR

_**Author's Note:**_ I _know_ you guys will really love the coming chapters. ;D

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything.

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

* * *

_I've been told at least a thousand times  
It's not worth the struggle, the hurt or the trouble_

_Miley Cyrus, My Heart Beats For Love

* * *

_

Renesmee followed Jacob into the house. She would have liked to say her feet moved with reluctance, but she walked behind him willingly, her eyes wandering over the mahogany paneling in the foyer with admiration.

"If you want to get cleaned up a bit, there are three bathrooms down here. The one through that door is the main one. The other ones adjoin to the bedrooms. Through this door here is the kitchen. Margie keeps it well stocked with non-perishable items, but I'll give her a call later and I'm sure she'll bring by some other stuff." He smiled, leading her through the large interior of the den. "She'll even whip it up into something edible, since I don't think you'd survive my cooking."

"Not much of a chef, huh?"

Jacob laughed. "I have other talents," he murmured, pointing upstairs with a smirk. "There are five bedrooms, three upstairs and two downstairs. The whole layout is pretty basic, so I don't think you'll have any problem getting around."

Renesmee shook her head. "I'm not going to familiarize myself with your house."

"Jared actually owns it, but over the years it's become a retreat for the entire family."

"I'm not family, though, am I?" she grumbled. "You and I both know why we are here, and it's not for rest and relaxation."

"Give it a break, will you?" he sighed. "If I only wanted to fuck you, we could have stayed in that parking lot."

Renesmee opened her eyes wide at his crude words, before she blinked back the sudden welling of tears. "Yes. That's my point exactly. You didn't have to bring me here. The whole friggin' world is at your fingertips. What do you want with _me_?"

"You still have a lot of things to learn, Nessie, if you can't figure that out for yourself."

"I know what it is. I'm your new novelty. Some little toy for you to play with."

"You cheapen yourself by saying that."

"How dare you," she gasped, taking a step closer, wanting to slap his arrogant face.

Jacob shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he took a step toward her. "How dare _me_? For more than a month now, I've let you lead me around in circles. I've let _you_ play the tune because I wanted to give you time . . . space." He took another haunting step forward, his gaze frightening. "I don't know whose mistakes I'm paying for, but the cost will be settled, Nessie. I will not play these games with you any longer."

He turned stalking away, though before he reached the stairs he called over his shoulder, "Don't even think of leaving either. I _will_ come after you, and I can guarantee that I won't be as nice as I am now."

With that, Jacob finally left the room, marching up the steps, leaving Renesmee all alone with her thoughts. For a moment, she debated about taking the keys lying on the small coffee table. She could drive herself home. It would take a while, but she'd get there. The only thing stopping her was that she seriously believed Jacob's threat. He would come after her. There wasn't a shadow of doubt in her mind. Truly, he was a man of his word. No matter how hard she tried to avoid him, she'd have to face him eventually.

Still pondering the consequences of such an action, she made her way to the bathroom Jacob had mentioned so she could wash up. She would have loved to take a shower, but since she didn't have any clothes to change into. She'd have to settle for a quick birdbath.

Finishing up, a groan of hunger rumbled through her stomach. Turning the bottom of her wrist upward so she could look at her watch, she realized that the last time she'd eaten had been hours ago. Starvation, even if a part of her did want to go on a hunger strike, wasn't acceptable.

She made her way through the swinging doors on her right, remembering Jacob said it led to the kitchen. Renesmee took a moment to admire the layout, complete with an island countertop stove, top-of-the-line appliances, and numerous mahogany cabinets. The kitchen matched the test of the house's modern rustic, homey interior, and as she searched through the refrigerator, she frowned over the numerous bottles of water. She hoped the freezer would have more to offer, but was disappointed as she stared at trays of ice cubes.

The house was beautiful, but barren didn't begin to describe the inside of the refrigerator.

Crossing her fingers, Renesmee moved on to the cabinets.

When she opened them it was as though as band of angels' sang a full-bodied chorus in her head. Before her was an array of freshly canned, _homemade_ goods.

She grabbed the nearest one, reading aloud the hand-printed label, complete with an expiration date. "Minestrone." Pulling down jar after jar, she continued, "Beef and Vegetables. Chicken n' Dumplings. Harvest Stew." Renesmee moved on to the next cabinet. "Apples. Peaches. Cherries." There was a whole range of goods. Everything that could be canned was up in these cabinets. "She was sure of it."

The question of her hunger solved, she moved around the kitchen to find some bowls and cutlery. She decided on the chicken and heated it in the microwave. For a desert, Renesmee settled on the canned peaches.

Minutes later, full and pleasantly sated, she rinsed out the dishes before wandering through the rest of the downstairs area. She had no idea where Jacob had disappeared to upstairs, but she had no plans to go and find out either. She needed to find a phone so she could call the club and Kim, but as she searched through the numerous rooms downstairs, she couldn't locate one. Settling on the sofa, she figured she'd call from her cell when she had another quiet, Jacob-free moment.

"I see you made yourself comfortable."

Jacob's deep voice startled Renesmee, and she jumped up from her seat, her hand pressed to her chest. "Jeez. You scared me."

"Sorry, that wasn't my intention."

He sounded sincere. She almost believed him. "That's why you crept down the stairs without making any noise, right?"

"You looked so involved. I didn't want to disturb you."

Reluctantly Renesmee's gaze wandered over his masculine frame. She took in his untucked, white buttoned shirt, black jeans pants and slicked-back damp hair.

He looked like a werewolf.

"Well, you scared me," she murmured, glancing away from him. "So, now that you've gotten me here. What are you going to do with me?"

A slow grin spread across his face. "That sounds like an open invitation."

"It's not," she denied, even though her body heated from the inside out.

"Good. I don't think I could hang in any case. I just drove for six hours straight. The only thing I want is some food and some sleep."

Renesmee frowned. She wasn't supposed to be disappointed because he didn't want to have sex. What in the hell was wrong with her?

"You have enough canned goods in the kitchen to feed a small army. I don't think food is going to be a problem."

"Margaret Neri, a woman from town, comes by periodically and cleans. She also keeps the place well stocked for unexpected visits, but I need something a little more substantial than soup. There's a diner in town that serves breakfast all day," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at the doubtful look she gave him.

"I already ate."

"Well, there's no law that says you can't watch me eat. Plus, we need to get you some clothes."

Renesmee pinched her lips tight. "I'll make do with what I have," she grumbled, looking down at her worn sweats. A few extra items _wouldn't_ hurt and she definitely needed some, but she'd crawl across hot coals before she indebted herself to him.

"Did you hear me giving you a choice? We are going to get something to eat and buy some clothes," Jacob paused, punctuating his command, with a casual shrug, "and that's it. So, grab your purse and let's go."

Renesmee wanted to argue, but she knew it would be futile.

Moments later, she seated next to him in his luxurious SUV, Renesmee marveled at his stamina. "Aren't you tired?"

"Yes, but now's not the time to sleep."

"So, you're forcing yourself to stay awake?"

"I'm doing what needs to be done."

Jacob's words struck her as odd. Most people didn't do what they needed. They responded to situations through habit and instinct. Choices would present themselves, but oftentimes folks traveled the easiest path, ignoring what needed to be done.

Renesmee had seen enough of that in her life to know it was true.

Jake's quick acceptance of responsibility figured highly in his statement and Renesmee filed the information away for later investigation.

She wanted to take a moment to glimpse her surroundings, but the drive to the diner was quick, taking no more than ten minutes. Jacob was so fast parking the car in a spot near the entrance she barely had a moment to notice the other vehicles. There seemed to be quite a few for so early in a morning.

Not wanting to take her purse, she reached inside, grabbed her small, pocket size wallet, and stuffed the soft leather handbag under her seat. Most of her personal identification, as well as her money and credit cards were located inside the small compacted leather. If she needed to leave quickly, she could do so comfortably, leaving behind everything else.

"How did you find this place?" she asked, opening the door to step onto the loose gravel.

"I own it."

Not at all surprised, Renesmee shook her head. "I didn't mean the diner. I meant how did you . . . or your brother find this place . . . as in to live?"

"It was a fluke really. Jared came up here to look over a resort he was thinking of buying."

Renesmee shifted her gaze to the traditional styled buildings across the street, glimpsing a lot of gourmet food stores and specialty shops. Obviously, this was one of the main thoroughfares of the town.

Even though it was early morning, patrons were already bustling and moving to and fro. Most of them looked to be tourists or California weekend travelers. A few stood near a large fountain located near a brick lined structure that resembled a court house she'd once seen pictures in an architecture magazine detailing America during the turn of the century.

The city had obviously spent a great deal of money restoring the quaint charm to this town, and Renesmee only needed one guess as to why.

"So what, you and your brother rode in here like the great white hope and saved the dying town from bankruptcy?" She didn't mean to sound so condescending, but once the words had erupted, she couldn't hold back.

Jacob slanted his eyes. "Yeah, something like that."

"I'm sure the grateful citizens threw you and your brother a ticker tape parade. Bet that made you real happy."

"Not really," he paused, "but my mom enjoyed it."

Stopping in her tracks, Renesmee sighed in exasperation. "Don't you ever get sick of controlling people? It can't be a lot of fun."

"I don't know about that . . . Having someone who will do whatever you want, whenever you want." His long fingers, cooled by the breezy wind trailed along her jaw. "It's pretty intoxicating."

A strong sense of awareness raised the delicate hairs on her arm as rampant desire tingled through her flesh. She wanted to deny it, reject the helpless feeling if she could, but as she stared into Jacob's heavy lidded eyes, the feelings were too powerful to ignore.

She took a deep breath, the fragrant fauna of her surroundings cascading through her nostrils, bringing life, death, and every other inherent offering of nature to the fore. She felt like a fly caught in an unyielding web.

"Why do you want this from me, Jacob? You know I'm not capable of giving you what you want."

"You're the only one for me, Nessie, the only soul that matches mine. Do you think I'd let that go?" As if waiting for an answer, he tilted her chin upward, holding her gaze steady. "Nothing you do, will ever make me forget that . . . nothing."

"But I can't be that person, Jacob. You already know this."

"You will," he reiterated. "You will."

A helpless entreaty caught upon her lips.

What could she say?

The man was like an earthquake determined to shake her loose.

"Jake, you want more than I can offer, more than I could possibly hope to give. Please . . . let me go."

His gaze became flinty, hard like titanium. "No," he answered implacably, opening the clean, glass doors of the diner and ushering her inside.

Renesmee wanted to say more, but the hand against her back kept pushing her forward.

Delicious smells assaulted her, freshly brewed coffee, baked bread and sweet, spicy cinnamon. Even though she wasn't hungry, her stomach responded to the thought of good food.

Renesmee spied the checkered top tables and booths decorated with numerous faux flowers. A long, brown counter stained from long years of use, ran from the entrance to the opposite wall, with four old-fashioned cake dishes spaced evenly on top, housing what looked to be homemade coffee cake.

In spite of herself, Renesmee smiled. Right before she'd left Oklahoma, she'd dined in a restaurant just like this, one filled with goodness and warmth. It was probably the only tactile, happy moment she'd ever had in the _OK_ state. She could still remember the waitress who had served her a platter of eggs and bacon for free before she boarded the bus headed toward Los Angeles because she said that Renesmee looked like she needed it.

"Jake! What are you doing here?" A loud, feminine voice called out.

Startled, Renesmee turned and watched as a petite, gray haired woman of about fifty rushed from behind the counter, a floral print hand towel flapping from her shoulder.

Jacob stepped forward, a wide smile on his face in greeting. "Margie, you know I can't resist your cooking for long."

"Naughty boy. You'd say anything to appease an old woman."

Renesmee hoped they would continue to ignore her, but as she took a step back, attempting to blend in with the décor, Margie's piercing green stare halted her mid-stride.

She took another step back, hoping to become invisible, but . . .

"And who is this?"

Jacob moved his hand without turning his head and grabbed a hold of her waist, like he had radar in his fingertips. He pulled her forward, "Margie, this is Renesmee Cullen." Jacob inclined his head forward. "Nessie this is Margaret Neri."

Gingerly shaking the proffered hand, Renesmee vaguely noted that Margie had soft, smooth skin, almost like the combination of butter and flour.

"How do you do?" she asked, helplessly drawn to the woman's buoyant charm.

"Oh, I could be doing better, but for the time being I'm doing fine, though I have to say seeing Jake here has really brightened my day."

"You say that every time you see me, Margie. I'm starting to think it's not true," Jacob teased.

"How can you say that?" Margie threatened him with the snap of her towel. "I'm always glad when you stop by. It means you've taken a break from the hustle and bustle. Is Jared with you?"

"No, he's in Washington with his fiancée."

Her loud, excited shriek caused the other diners to turn and stare at them. "What? Jared's getting married? To who? When? Oh, my gosh!"

Renesmee flexed her fist. The thought of Kim's impending marriage brought a flood of feeling she'd rather forget about, and she pushed them to the back of her mind.

Margie kept talking a mile a minute, and somehow in between fielding endless questions, Jacob finally found a way to steer them toward an empty booth in the corner.

"Goodness. Where are my manners? Here I am jabbering away and I bet you two are hungry. Hold on and let me get you both some food."

The talkative woman bounded away before Renesmee could tell her she wasn't hungry. Sighing, she tried to scoot to the other side of the 'U' shaped booth, valiantly trying to put more than an inch between her and Jacob.

"You know, you don't have to sit so close."

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired and might fall over. I need you to prop me up."

Renesmee snorted. "I haven't even seen you yawn."

Jacob smirked, flashing his pearly white teeth in a dashing smile. "What can I say, baby. You invigorate me."

Margie returned with two large glasses of OJ, a plate of buttered toast and a small bowl of jam.

"Jerome is already preparing you pancakes, sweetie, but I know how much you like my marmalade."

"Thanks, Margie."

"And you, dear, what can I get for you?"

Renesmee shook her head. "I'm not really hungry. I had something to eat earlier." She smiled at Margie's crestfallen expression. "One of your homemade soups actually. It was really good."

"For breakfast? No-no, that won't do. Why don't I get you a nice helping of my potato pie with some bacon and eggs?" Margie frowned. "You're not on one of those low-carb diets, are you?"

"No," Renesmee assured her.

"Good, I can't understand that myself. It's not healthy to stuff yourself full of meat."

"But I'm really not hungry."

"Nonsense. I'll go put your order in," Margie said, completely oblivious to any denials.

Renesmee felt as though she was being sucked down a drain, like someone had pulled the plug on her life. Glancing under her lashes at Jacob, sitting to her right, she knew immediately who that _someone_ was.

* * *

**Sneak-preview of the next chapter:

* * *

**

Jacob was like a marauder, taking whatever he wished — whenever he wished.

Renesmee jumped slightly when he slipped one long digit into her aching pussy, her restless cunt clamped around him, sucking his finger deeper inside.

Sweat beaded her brow, and she bit her lip to keep from groaning, desperately looking around the diner.

"Shush, relax. No one is watching," Jacob whispered.


	6. CHAPTER FIVE

_**Author's Note:**_ The next chapter is very intense. Hope you like it.

_**Disclaimer:**_ Mmm.

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

* * *

_Everything in this world  
Every voice in the night  
Every little thing of beauty  
Comes shining through in your eyes  
And all that is you  
Becomes part of me, too  
'Cause all you do  
Seduces me_

_- Celine Dion, Seduces Me

* * *

_

Renesmee had never seen a person pack away so much food in her life.

Gaping at Jake, bewildered, she wondered where in the world it all went. There wasn't an ounce of fat on his muscular body. Already on a third stack of pancakes, she mused, there was no way her could eat like this on a regular basis.

Jacob relished each and every bite, licking at his fork and curving his lips in a smile of satisfaction, the expression on his face almost . . . _orgasmic_.

Blinking, upset at the sudden, sexual turn in her thoughts, she looked down at her own plate, taking in a mouthful.

Margie was right. Her potato pie was excellent, tempting Renesmee to eat more even though she wasn't hungry.

When Jacob leaned back, sighing and patting his rock-hard stomach, Renesmee peeked over at him, grinning. "Don't stop now. You haven't licked your plate clean."

"I thought you might like to try some," he murmured, leaning close to plant a gentle kiss on her neck.

Renesmee flinched, but didn't draw away. "No, thank you," she whispered.

"C'mon." Jacob speared a piece of pancake with the tines, holding it close to her lips like she was a small child. "It's delicious."

The thick juice from the syrup, apples and butter dripped onto the table, and onto her shirt, but Jacob didn't seem to care. He leaned even closer, his hot breath washing across her face.

"Just one little bite," he cajoled, his tone heated with unveiled seduction. "I guarantee you'll like it."

Reason, every single reason why she shouldn't, fled under a torrent of desire and Renesmee inclined her head closer, accepting his offer.

The tangy sweetness of the tart apples and rich maple syrup delighted her taste buds. Renesmee chewed slowly savoring, her eyes glued to Jacob's heated stare.

"Is it good?" he asked seductively.

"Yes."

"Do you want some more?"

Renesmee knew Jacob wasn't talking about food.

She wanted to shake her head in denial, but it was like an electrical current had short-circuited her brain, magnetizing her body to his. His lips mere centimeters from hers, she could almost taste his essence just as strongly as the sweetness from the cinnamon pancakes coating her tongue.

She shouldn't, but the need was so strong — so desperate — it was near impossible to resist him any longer.

Without conscious thought, Renesmee leaned into his embrace, sealing their mouths with a gentle kiss.

Jacob growled against her before his tongue caressed across her parted lips, his arm tightening around her waist to pull her closer into him embrace.

The noise from the surrounding diners faded into a muffled lull as the kiss deepened into something powerful, erotic and heady.

Over and over Jacob slanted his mouth across hers, taking command and pushing her boundaries to the maximum. The fact that he tasted of sweet, doughy pancakes make it harder to resist the drugging kiss. And the way he nibbled on her lips, sipping at them like fine wine, had her leaning closer for more.

Jacob was an expert kisser, and he knew it, too. Like everything else, he took control, leading Renesmee where he wanted her to go.

His fingers trailed down the column of her neck, skimmed her aching nipple, and rested at the stretchy, cinched material of her waistband. Renesmee started, gasped, and tried to pull away, her eyes darting around the crowded restaurant.

No one was paying them the slightest bit of attention. All the other patrons were either engrossed in deep conversations, or hearty helpings of food. It was as if they were alone — but they weren't and Renesmee was keenly aware of the fact.

"Stop. Not here," she whispered.

Jacob smiled, and continued like he hadn't even heard her, the look in his eyes said he wasn't concerned about the time or the place.

Renesmee wondered again what in the world had possessed her to leave the club without any panties on. Though she figured, stifling a restless moan as his thumb glided by her clit, a thin scrap of underwear wouldn't have been much of a defense.

Jacob was like a marauder, taking whatever he wished — whenever he wished.

Renesmee jumped slightly when he slipped one long digit into her aching pussy, her restless cunt clamped around him, sucking his finger deeper inside.

Sweat beaded her brow, and she bit her lip to keep from groaning, desperately looking around the diner.

"Shush, relax. No one is watching," Jacob whispered.

The look in his eyes was scorching hot as he continued to finger-fuck her cunt — sometimes using two fingers, sometimes three — but his index repeatedly strayed to her clit, rubbing and caressing the aching bud.

She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out as a tight ball of fire began to unfurl in her belly, spreading first to her legs then upwards toward her breasts. She was having difficulty maintain any semblance of control.

Renesmee gripped the table as terrible tremors shook through her body. She was so close to climaxing, she felt as though a cauldron of hot elixir had been poured over her body, singeing her nerve endings.

Flexing and clenching the muscles in her vagina, she bowed her head, hoping to muffle the helpless cry careening up her throat. Any moment now she was going to burst into a thousand pieces.

"Don't fight it, Nessie," Jake whispered close to her ear. "Let me give you what you want, what you know only I can give."

_God!_ His fingers felt like flexible pieces of steel designed to please, and his words were driving her crazy. She remembered what his hard cock felt like as it fucked inside her body, first slowly then harder and harder. Her body was on fire, her mind giving in to the burning flame, she was ready —

"So, did you two enjoy your meal?"

Like a cold draft of water, Margie's voice washed over Renesmee, intruding into thoughts a nice, sweet, matronly woman had no business being in.

Jacob, however, hardly seemed to notice. Lifting his head, he grinned. "It was wonderful. Thanks."

"Anytime, dear." Margie's gaze swung toward Renesmee, her eyes crinkling around the corners. "You still have a lot on your plate. Didn't you like my potato pie?"

There were only two answers Renesmee could have given, but Jacob had yet to remove his fingers from her pussy. Thinking really wasn't an option. "Yes," she breathed, choosing option number one.

"Oh, well, I guess I could box it up for you, but eggs don't taste good if they aren't fresh. I mean, microwaves are great and all, but I've never understood why folks would want to re-heat eggs. It takes, like, five seconds to make them. I guess it's okay for meat and stuff, but eggs . . . well . . . that's just disgusting." Margie looked like she wanted to say more, but she shook her head, grabbing for the plates and cutlery on the table. "Why don't I come by later this evening so I can cook you two some dinner," she paused, picking up the glasses. "I've got Jenna with me, though. Will that be a problem?"

"No. not at all, I'd love to see her," Jacob assured, finally slipping his fingers from Renesmee's twitching pussy. "Why don't you some by around six o'clock?"

"Is that okay with you, dear?"

Renesmee wondered why Margie would even bother to ask. Though, as her eyes wandered dazedly toward Jacob's possessive hand burning like a brand on her waist, she figured they did look like the happy couple.

_If only she knew . . ._

"It's fine with me," Renesmee muttered, though her body was still attempting to recover from Jacob's ten-minute onslaught, and the crouch of her sweat felt like a giant flood had passed through.

Jesus! She needed to cum — right here, right now — it really didn't matter where.

Margie turned to leave, her gray hair flapping on a breeze.

Renesmee dropped her head, breathing in and out as she tried to regain some control. She looked up as Jacob lifted his hand to his mouth, her gaze holding his as he licked and sucked the sticky cream from his fingers.

The sensual curve of his lips caused another wave of awareness to roll through her body.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice pitched low with mocking innocence.

Her teeth clenched, she glared at him. "No, I'm not _alright_. I thought food and sleep were the only things on your mind."

"I lied."

Renesmee wanted to reach up and slap Jake across his handsome face. _The smug bastard!_

She was only able to refrain from hitting him because he did give her a few moments to compose herself before hastily ushering her out of the diner.

The air served as a balm to her tingling nerves, and Renesmee inhaled a deep breath taking in the cool essence of nature.

Her body was violently aroused, but since the only person capable of providing satiation make her want to hurt him, she figured some needs were better left alone.

Wrenching her wrist from his hand, Renesmee marched toward the car. "You coming?"

"We need to get you some clothes."

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Jacob to "go to hell", but as she thought about her lack of panties, his never-ending quest to get inside her pants, and her own rioting demands, she figured that discretion was the better part of valor. She reckoned a crowded store and more clothing might be the only deterrent she could muster. A thick pair of jeans, some bulky sweaters and some granny-panties would help — at least she hoped they would.

Turning toward him, she smirked. "Sure. Let's go."

IllI

As the cool haze of morning cleared away under the heat of the afternoon sun, Jake kept his hand on the small of Nessie's back, propelling her down the crowed street.

Her austere profile gave away little of her thoughts.

No doubt his crazy, mixed up lover was trying to figure more ways to thwart him. Little did she know that he had made it his mission to out talk, out think, and out maneuver her at every turn. Nessie didn't stand a chance. No matter how hard she struggled.

Already, he'd succeeded in putting her on edge.

Though, Jake admitted to himself, he _had_ hated to see the torment on her face when he pulled his fingers free of her wet, clenching pussy.

The desire to assuage her — fuck her tight channel with hard, unyielding strokes — was present, but weighted against the thought of branding Nessie to him, gave strength to resist the temptation . . . for now.

For the time being, his recalcitrant lover needed to remain unfulfilled.

"We've already passed a whole bunch of stores. Where are we going exactly?"

Nessie's sudden question surprised Jacob out of his reverie, and he glanced at her curious expression. "Just a little further up to Miller's. They have a better range of clothes," he answered easily.

She seemed to accept this, and he smiled to himself. Although Miller's did have a wide selection of apparel for men and women, there was another reason why Jacob wanted them to go there. The large dressing room with its floor length mirrors would be perfect for the first training he had in mind, and considering he owned the store, there'd be no problem convincing Jeremiah Miller it was time to take a break.

Content with his plan and glad that his long buttoned shirt obscured the thick bulge in his pants, he grimaced as another wave of pulsing awareness pounded through the length of his cock.

_Christ! _He ached for release — ached to be inside Nessie's sweet, hot cunt. He knew if he didn't get inside the heaven of her pussy soon, he'd go out of his mind.

When a large panel of thick glass painted with swirling white letters came into view, Jacob almost let loose a cry of triumph.

Pulling Nessie to a halt when she would have continued on, he waved his arm in a sweeping gesture. "Here we are."

She frowned, peering at the glass. "Miller's General Store?"

"A play on words, believe me. You won't find anything general about this place."

Nessie didn't look convinced, but conceded to his gentle tug with little protest. A bell just above the door tingled with chimes of their arrival, and Jeremiah, spotting them, walked from behind the counter, a happy grin spread across his face.

"What in the hell are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd come by for a visit." Placing a proprietary hand on Nessie's shoulder, he smiled with indulgence. "Plus, the little lady here needs some clothes."

Making quick introductions, Jacob watched with mild annoyance as Jeremiah frankly appraised Nessie from the top of her golden-brown hair to the bottom of her scuffed tennis shoes.

"Pleased to meet you, Renesmee. Unique name by the way, does it mean anything?"

She shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of."

"That's good. My brother's kids have to carry around a dictionary to explain their names."

Nessie laughed. "It's actually a combination between the name of my grand . . ." Nessie stopped mid-sentence, and Jacob knew she felt embarrassed by the small amount of personal information she'd let slip.

Turning the topic in another direction, Jacob intruded into the uncomfortable silence. "Looks like you've gotten a lot of new stock."

Jeremiah waved a hand around, a proud look stamped on his face. "Yeah, we've had a lot of success expanding our higher end merchandise.

Jacob nodded in approval, happy that he'd kept the manager on board.

Jeremiah Miller was a shrewd businessman. Although this store, like many others, had been floundering before he and Jared came along, the injection of capital in the city, and in businesses like Miller's and Margie's, had boosted a lot more than just revenue. Hope, and the boundless zeal to succeed, had been restored.

Jake wasn't usually a sentimental person, but a part of him was warmed by the fact that he'd been able to help.

Nessie began to twitch, shuffling her feet from side to side.

Jacob smiled at her restlessness, and steered Jeremiah away from further talk of marketing strategies and product dilemmas. Business was the last thing on his mind — at least any business that didn't concern fucking Nessie's sweet, little pussy.

"I'd better get this woman some new clothes, Jeremiah. You know how they can be," he said with a wink.

When Nessie looked over her shoulder to flash him a hot, angry look, Jeremiah chortled. "Sure, Jake. I don't want to get you into any trouble. Let me know if you need anything," he said before walking back toward the counter.

Jake grinned. _Give me a few moments, pal, and then I'll need for you to leave._

There was only one other customer in the store at the present, and older woman who was picking her way through a row of multi-colored summer dresses. She looked up, smiling briefly, before returning to her perusal.

"I don't appreciate you and your buddy talking about me like I'm not here."

Amused by Nessie's prickly nature, Jake shrugged and lifted a lock of her hair so he could twirl it around his index finger. "You're too serious, baby."

Nessie growled under her breath, slapping his hand away. "Correction. I'm _realistic_," she muttered, moving off to inspect several folded pairs of jeans on a small table to the left. "I don't like you or anyone else thinking I'm you little woman. And that's what the end of that conversation was all about."

Jacob refused to rise to her bait. "If you say so."

"Why don't you go somewhere? I'm sure there are a hundred more important things you could be doing rather than bugging me."

Her words infuriated him, and he narrowed his gaze. "Nothing is more important than you, and it's time I prove that," he muttered.

Her pupils dilated, and Jacob's lust heightened at the erotic fear in her eyes.

Staring down for a few more moments, making sure his words sank deep into her psyche, he released her to turn away.

* * *

**Sneak-preview of the next chapter:

* * *

**

"Take your clothes off," he commanded in a strict voice, his eyes dark and compelling.

Hundreds of words raced through her head in rebuttal, but nothing emerged expect a silent gasp, a desperate entreaty for him to _— stop — don't stop — go away — never leave. _

Confused by the ambiguity of her desire, Renesmee stayed motionless, her arms flush against her sides. The lump in her throat grew until her mouth was dry, forcing her to swallow. She felt light-headed and breathed a sporadic breath to push more oxygen into her brain.

"Nessie. Take. Your. Clothes. Off."

* * *

_**-Review!-**_


	7. CHAPTER SIX

_**Author's Note:**_ Merry Christmas everybody!

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything.

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

* * *

_I can say that nothing was right  
But we know if I looked in your eyes, I'd break down_

_- Miley Cyrus, Scars

* * *

_

A nervous trill of anxiety started Renesmee's heart racing.

She watched, aroused, fearful, and agitated at the same time as Jake stalked toward the counter to speak with the paunchy, prematurely balding Jeremiah Miller.

After a few moments, Jeremiah nodded at Jacob and then turned to walk through the store, heading for the only other person in it aside from herself.

The elderly woman browsing around in the back greeted Jeremiah with a placid smile.

Blinking, her mouth open wide, Renesmee strained her ears to listen to their conversation. "Ma'am, I'm afraid I need to close down for a moment, so I can go grab a bite to eat. I'd be pleased to offer you a discount if you come back."

Mortified, Renesmee waited for the response.

"Sure. What time will you open again?"

Jeremiah glanced over his shoulder, first at Jacob then to Renesmee before looking back at the woman. "I think in a . . . couple of hours."

Whatever they said was lost because a low buzz began to ring in her ears. She felt hot, suffocated, and gazed in pure disbelief as the store emptied, leaving her alone with Jacob.

The bell above the door tinkled like a bell tolling for her soul being sold to the highest bidder.

Maneuvered, like a rook on a chessboard, Renesmee knew she'd been neatly trapped. She bowed her head and waited. There wasn't anything more she _could_ do. She was sure Jacob had been planning this whole scenario since they left the diner. And, if she were honest, her desire to thwart him was part of the reason she stood alone with him now.

Again, she'd been her own worst enemy.

The soft sounds of falling footsteps cleared away the clamor in her head. Her heartbeat tripled its pace. Desire, rich, dark and seductively hot, encompassed her limbs, gluing her feet to the floor.

With every step, Jacob drew closer, until like a shadowed mist, he stood over her, looking down with a keen, shrewd stare.

Helpless under his domineering stance, Renesmee dropped her eyes, refusing to meet his piercing gaze.

"Look at me."

Renesmee shook her head, mutely resisting.

"Look at me," Jacob commanded again, his voice soft.

She shook her head again, attempting to hold on to what little bit of sanity she had left, knowing if she lifted her eyes she'd be lost in him . . . again.

Jacob sighed. He placed one long finger under her chin, raising her head so she had no choice but to stare at him. "I've been patient with you, Nessie. I know you've needed time to sort through the mixed thoughts in your head, but this can't continue any longer." He grabbed hold of her hand, pulling her toward the two large dressing room doors. "I know you _say_ you don't want this, but I _know_ deep down, you do."

Although his words should have blinded her with fury, they had the opposite effect. Her pussy flooded with moisture and a tight knot unfurled in her stomach. Nerves on edge, her breath quickened as Jacob pushed open the large, corral-type doors of the dressing room. Her heart kick started into a furious tattoo at the sight of a large, cushioned purple chair, three floor length mirrors, one directly in front of her, and another two flanked on either side.

Jacob slowly sat down in the chair, taking an inordinate amount of time to settle himself.

"Take your clothes off," he commanded in a strict voice, his eyes dark and compelling.

Hundreds of words raced through her head in rebuttal, but nothing emerged expect a silent gasp, a desperate entreaty for him to —_ stop — don't stop — go away — never leave. _

Confused by the ambiguity of her desire, Renesmee stayed motionless, her arms flush against her sides. The lump in her throat grew until her mouth was dry, forcing her to swallow. She felt light-headed and breathed a sporadic breath to push more oxygen into her brain.

"Nessie. Take. Your. Clothes. Off."

This time, his words were stark. She could hear them, over and over, echoing through her eardrums. Her mind and body were at war with each other — one begging her to run — the other begging her to stay. She literally felt torn between her wants and needs, the true reason why she'd run so fast from Jacob . . . crystal clear.

The dominance of his nature did scare her, but it was her own submissive need to answer that made her feel as if she was walking with a ghost.

Caving in under paramount pressure, Renesmee closed her eyes, realizing that for all her running, she'd ended up running right back to him because that's where she ultimately wanted to be.

Unable to deny her need any longer, she lifted her hands toward the edges of her shirt.

"No. Take your pants off first."

Renesmee thought of refusing him for a split second. The need to rebel was there, but no matter how hard she tried to resist the pull, a part of her desperately ached to submit to Jacob.

Pushing her sweats down without a word, she rose on her tippy-toes to step on the backs of her shoes to remove them. Jacob stopped her, his hand lifting with an imperious gesture. "Did I tell you to take your shoes off?"

Silence ensued, but Jacob's gaze demanded a response. "No," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Then, leave them on," he ordered, his voice firm.

Renesmee nodded, and removed her sweats, leaving her shoes and socks on.

"Now, take the rest off."

Her bulky, large t-shirt came away with ease, as well as her bra, and she tossed the items to the floor, next to her pants. Swallowing against the sudden dryness in her mouth, her eyes automatically strayed toward the reflective glass behind him.

"Look at _me_, Nessie. You're not allowed to look in the mirror yet."

Rebuked, she returned her gaze to him. Waiting, apprehensive with arousal, as his eyes perused her from head to toe.

He was silent for so long and his stare was so piercing, Renesmee began to shake violently. The tremors started low in her belly, working outward.

Unsure if he even wanted her anymore, a whimper, a helpless cry, escaped from her lips. The noise seemed to spur him to action, and he stood abruptly, kicking away the mound of clothes at her feet.

She wanted to please him. Had she failed? Had she driven him too far?

Afraid he might leave, she reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist, pulling him closer.

Jacob blinked, as if coming from a daze, seconds before his mouth swooped down toward her lips. His kiss was filled with uncontrolled passion.

Renesmee reveled in the way his tongue mated with hers. Curling her body around him like a cat, she rubbed her breasts against the satiny material of his shirt. Spasm of need made her moan aloud, her pussy quivering and oozing warm, syrupy fluid onto her inner thighs.

This is what she wanted. Jacob's lips on hers, his body pressed close, the hard bulge of his erection nestled against her stomach.

Enthralled by the feel of him, it took a moment for her to realize that Jacob was no longer kissing her back. His lips were pliant, but unresponsive. Slowly rearing back, she peered into his eyes, perplexed by the indulgent expression on his face.

He smiled back at her, trailing his hands down her back. "Now you get to see what I see, Nessie. Turn around and face the mirror."

Gasping in extreme awareness, she immediately obeyed him, her eyes widening at the decadent 3-D perspective. Visions of watching Jacob's hard cock slicing into her pussy flashed into her mind. Electricity sparked hot inside her body, and current of desire arched down her spine.

"Put your hands flat against the mirror, and step as close as you can," he ordered, utilizing the hard press of his body, and the flat of his palms to demonstrate, "like this."

Renesmee shivered at the coldness, her breath whistling through her teeth. Her nipples, already puckered, glanced against the mirror, and the sensation of being hot then suddenly cold mde her pant with aroused shock. Unable to resist, she rubbed against the cold glass, luxuriating in the hard smoothness.

Jacob bucked his hips forward, pinning her in place. One lone fist clenched around a hunk of her hair, wrapping it around his wrist like a cord, pulling her head back until her neck arched. She stared up into his eyes. All traces of indulgence had been wiped from his face.

"Don't do that again," he gritted. "You wanted to look at yourself, so I'm letting you look. But you don't get to please that beautiful little body, Nessie. Not unless I tell you to. Now . . . look into the mirror and _don't_ move again."

Fear and desire wound around her nerves, sensitizing her mind. The amount of control Jacob was able to exert over her body in such a short time was astounding. It was hard to tell where he began and she ended.

Shutting her lids, she waited until he released her hair, before looking back toward the mirror, her body rigid with strain.

Jacob must have sensed the last threshold of her resistance had been conquered because he leaned close against her, his lips trailing hot, wet kisses along the indented curve where her neck and shoulder met.

"Good girl," he murmured, his hands praising her as well by sliding across her stomach and into the crease of her pussy to play with her clit.

A blaze of lust stormed the sensitive tissue. The flood seeping from her orifice slicked Jacob's fingers until they slid against her like warm, caressing silk.

The fact she was helpless to stop the onslaught, her body frozen in place by the strength of his will, heightened the pleasure racking her body. Desperate for release, she shuddered as a tidal wave of pleasure hastened toward her.

Nearly collapsing under the torment, she was thankful for Jacob's strong arms wrapped around her. She would have fallen to the floor if it weren't for Jacob's holding her upright.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, turning her to face him and kissing her gently. "And your pussy is so sweet. I'm going to fuck you now. Just the way you like it, slow then hard, then harder and harder until you cum all over my cock."

Nodding, she raised her arms, eager to remove his clothes so she could feel his cock inside her.

Jacob shook his head. "No. Stand there."

Braced against the mirror, Renesmee licked her lips in anticipation as Jacob slowly began to unbutton his shirt.

Weightless, like she was floating in an orbital plane of bliss where the two of them were the only two things that mattered. Her body revved up at the sight of his naked chest and stomach, at the light smattering of hair thickening into an enticing line leading down into the waistband of his trousers.

His belt came off next, causing his pants to drop low on his waist, and her breath hitched in her throat.

"Take your shoes and socks off."

His voice commanded seductive surrender.

"Now come here. I want you to help me take mine off."

Walking toward him, her eyes never leaving his face, she knelt at his feet slipping his shoes free.

"Good girl," he murmured, staring down. "Now, my pants, unzip them."

Her hands were hesitant — shaky — as she pulled down the zipper.

This would be the first time Renesmee would see Jacob completely unclothed, and her body quivered in anticipation.

The moment his cock sprang free — jutting, long and thick — vivid images of Jacob feeding from her pussy that long ago night at the club flashed behind her eyes, making her hungry to taste him. Unaware, she began to sway closer toward him, her mouth wide and ready to suckle his cock.

Jacob slid his fingers in her hair, gently pushing her away from him.

"No, I want to fuck that sweet little pussy. If you promise to be a good girl, I'll fuck that sweet mouth of yours later." Renesmee whimpered at the thought of his thick, large cock sliding in and out of her mouth. "Do you promise?"

She'd have promised the moon and stars. "Yes," she whispered.

"Good girl," he muttered, his voice laced with lust. "Now stand up so I can give you what you truly want, baby."

She didn't think she could move, much less stand, her body felt as if it was in a state of turmoil.

Jacob must have sensed her desperation because he grabbed hold of her shoulders, sliding her upward along his body.

Skin met skin, the contact electric. Heat poured through her veins, sparking a firestorm of desire.

Jacob sighed harshly, and placed both his hands on her buttocks, lifting her from the floor.

Renesmee wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her thighs gripped tight around his waist, poising her aching pussy above his cock.

"Tell me who owns this pussy," Jacob muttered, his eyes twin flames of need.

"You, Jake. Only you," she gasped.

Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he growled, "Tell me again who owns this pussy."

Suddenly, the breadth of his penis filled her to completion, the strength of his thrust bouncing her up.

She screamed, "You!"

Jacob didn't say another word as his cock rammed, over and over, into her quivering pussy. He took no prisoners with his puissant thrusts, his powerful legs supporting her as he drove his shaft upward with sure, quick strokes.

Trapped in a world of pleasure, she rushed headlong into the furious tidal wave of lust and desire, gripping Jacob's hair to pull his face upward for a kiss of passion. The heat from his searing lips added to the flames licking at the insides of her cunt as his cock repeatedly slammed inside her.

Unable to withstand the building pressure, Renesmee burst into a thousand pieces. The haze of climatic bliss left her breathless as she cried a scream of pure joy into his mouth, tears streaming down her face.

Jacob clutched her tighter, one large hand caressing her buttocks, as he joined her in the oblivion.

Still overcome by the torrent, Renesmee blindly recognized her body being settled into the nearby chair.

Jacob, nestling his head against her stomach, lowered himself to his knees, his body shaking as well.

Several long pant-filled moments passed before Renesmee felt her heartbeat slowing and her breath returning to normal. She opened her eyes, though she couldn't remember when she closed them, and stared at Jacob, his rich dark stare level with hers.

Tenderly, he wiped the tears from her face with the tips of his thumbs. "My sweet love, so passionate and feisty. I'm sorry I made you cry," he murmured.

Renesmee nodded, accepting.

Jacob leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "But I didn't have a choice."

She nodded again.

"I need for you to trust me, Nessie. Trust me completely. Not just with your body, but with your mind." His voice so soft with need, she could almost hear the inner torment of his body.

Caressing her knees before standing, Jacob looked down from his superior height. "Can you trust me, Nessie?"

Bereft of an answer, not knowing what to say, she turned away, afraid he'd see past the shadows that had to be echoing in her eyes.

She did want to trust him, but she was afraid of giving away so much control of her life and happiness. Experience had taught her once that power corrupted . . . and absolute power corrupted completely.

"I don't know. I-I just feel so lost, like-like I don't know up from down. What you ask for is scary."

A dark, haunting silence echoed. Even though she knew there was a world outside of the store, it felt like nothing except the two of them existed.

"Then will you at least give us a chance? Give me a chance to prove I would never hurt you?" he asked, sliding his fingers into her hair. "That's all I ask for, Nessie. Just a chance."

Renesmee trembled as his questions ran through her mind. Her gaze traveled upward and collided with the spent evidence of his desire. A wave of emotion she wasn't really ready to examine swept through her, but she dismissed it, struggling to find her voice.

"Okay. I'll give you a chance, Jacob."

* * *

**Sneak-preview of the next chapter:

* * *

**

"I'm here with Nessie," he said.

A decided pause sounded, and Jacob heard his brother swear softly. "What are you doing at the Summit with my fiancée's best friend, _Jacob_?"

"It's complicated . . . and I can't really get into it now."

"You better try. The last think I need is this shit muddying up my life."

Jacob's jaw set, and his fist clenched tight. "What Nessie and I are going is none of your damn business!"

"When you start screwing around in my territory it becomes my business," Jared muttered.

* * *

_**-Review! And any guesses on who Jenna is? I would like to know who you guys think she is.-**_


	8. CHAPTER SEVEN

_**Author's Note:**_ To my loyal readers, I'm so sorry for such a LOOONG delay. I've been really busy with my life and work. It's almost been two years, I think, since I last uploaded a chapter. But, I just wanted to let you know that I'm still alive. I'm really sorry. I will upload the next chapter next week or maybe sooner ;) Please be sure to follow me on tweeter and also tweet me please! I will keep you guys updated. Also, feel free to send me a message. I will definitely get back to you!  
My twitter is JacobsAngelNess.  
Instagram: Dory_Cat_Shw

_**Declaimer:**_ The characters are not mine. I wish they were, though.

* * *

CHAPTER SEVEN

* * *

_Something about you now,  
I can't quite figure out.  
Everything she does is beautiful,  
Everything she does is right._

_- Lighthouse, You and Me_

* * *

As she stood in the lone bathroom at Miller's, wiping Jacob's sticky seed away from her thighs, Renesmee still wasn't sure what made her say those words.

Clenching the wet towel grasped in her hand, she flicked them into the nearby garbage with a snort of disgust, wishing her fears could have been tossed away as well.

She wasn't sure what was worse—the easy control Jacob had commanded of her mind and body, or her own helpless need to submit to him.

_Why do I desire a man I know wants to control me?_

Everything about Jacob, from his unswerving determination, to his powerful presence, smacked of the type of dominant sexual nature Renesmee had rejected years ago. The type of nature she'd sworn off after her experience with Riley Windham.

She'd never understood the needs in her body. The needs that made her want to submit and be controlled, but she'd made a vow to never let those feeling hold away again. Yet, like bad déjà vu, here she stood, trapped in the same boat, prisoner to the desires of another. How she hasn't learned her lesson after the mental and physical beating Riley had bestowed was a question better left for when she obviously had more sense in her noggin.

Shaking her head, Renesmee washed and dried her hands before pulling her sweats back up. She didn't really feel like facing Jake, but she'd already been inside the bathroom for over ten minutes. No doubt he would come looking for her if she didn't eventually show her face. Plus, she needed to get some clothes, so she could take a real shower. Birdbaths were very overrates, and she felt just a tad bit icky.

Frowning at her reflection, she smoothed her fingers through her hair, attempting to take the unruly mess. A real comb, a brush and a can of hairspray would have been best, but wishful thinking wouldn't make her hair look any better.

With one last frown at the mirror, she opened the door.

The first think she glimpsed when she walked out was Jacob, his hips resting against a display table, dressed and ready, his hair remarkably tidy. An embarrassing blush crawled up her skin, and she glanced away from his composed features.

"Take your time looking around. We aren't in any rush," he said.

"I thought you would be tired," she mumbled.

Jacob shook his head. "I can last for a few more minutes."

Ignoring the double entendre in his words, she nervously picked through a colorful rack of shirts. "I'll just get a few things. I-I mean we're only staying here for the weekend, right?"

"Although I'd love to keep you here forever, Nessie, I know you have school."

"What about you? Don't you have to get back to work . . . or something?"

He stared at her, and the gleam in his eyes made her hand still. "I'm on vacation right now."

Renesmee nodded, deciding there wasn't a need for further conversation.

The original plan of arming herself with jeans and bulky sweaters seemed foolish now. The season was already edging into summer. Although it had been cool this morning, the glaring sin promised a warm day.

Quickly deciding on a pair of black sweat pants, two colorful buttoned tops, some shorts and lightweight PJs, she opted for just one pair of jeans and one pink knitted sweater. Her tennis shoes would do well enough for footwear, so she bypasses the few ladies shoes showcased against the wall.

Turning toward the register, thinking she had enough for another couple of days, a thought, like a shout in the dark, stopped her cold.

_Underwear!_

There was no way she was leaving this damn store without some of those. Moving toward the back, she grabbed few frilly-lace undergarments, and frowned at their sexy design. Well, she figured, at least she'd have some on. Picking up a couple of brassieres for good measure, she finally joined Jacob at the counter.

Renesmee gestures to the clothes in her arm. "I can't just take these. Maybe I should leave some money on the counter," she said, remembering the wallet in the pocket of her sweats.

Jacob was quicker though, quickly retrieving three hundred dollar bills from his own wallet.

Renesmee lifted a brow. "You know, credit cards are safer."

He smiled, flashing a toothy grin. "Cash only, remember."

Was he going to repeat _everything_ she'd said to him that night at the Fuego?

Setting the clothes on the counter, she pulled the tags, opting to ignore his little comment. "That's way too much," she said, adding the figured, and motioning toward his money.

"Don't worry about it."

_Must be nice to never have to worry about being broke._

They left the store a few minutes later, after she'd bagged her clothes and written a 'thank you' note to Jeremiah. The middle-aged man probably thought she was some sort of a slut, but she _was_ grateful to have more to wear that just a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. Plus, she was truly grateful to finally have some panties.

The morning coolness had evaporated under a blazing sun, and a quick glimpse at her watch reveled that it was nearly noon. The streets were now crowded with patrons, many carrying shopping bags or munching on hot dogs. She glanced over her shoulder at Jacob, who was checking that the door had locked behind them, when a full-bodied yawn racked her frame.

"You tired?" he asked, smoothing his hand down her hair.

"Yeah, though I don't know why. I slept the whole ride here."

"Probably just wrung out. It has been an eventful morning."

Renesmee blushed. "You can say that again. What about you? I'm sure you're ready to fall on your face."

Jacob laughed. "I _could_ do with a bit of sleep."

That had to be the understatement of the year. The man had to have been up for at least twenty-four straight hours. A slight twinge of guilt, and another blaze of the undefined emotion that had swept her earlier, ricocheted beneath her breasts, making her heart spasm erratically.

Dismissing the thoughts because she was too tired to examine them fully, Renesmee slipped her hands into his, and smiled up at his surprised expression. "In case you do fall and I have to drag you to the car," she teased.

Immediately all traces of merriment banished from Jacob's eyes and he pulled her close for a short, passionate kiss.

Blinking up at him, Renesmee pulled away with reluctance.

The silent ride back to the cabin took an extra five minutes because there were more cars on the road. Eventually, the traffic lulled as they turned the last corner leading into the private drive.

Renesmee undid her seat belt and retrieved her purse from under the seat, slinging it over her shoulder before exiting the car. She opened the back door and swiftly grabbed the shopping bad sitting on the back seat.

Jacob stepped out of his side of the vehicle, walking around the front of the car to stand beside her, his eyes flicking downward. "I'll carry that."

Handing his the glossy white bag, proudly proclaiming "Miller's" in cursive black lettering, she smiled in thanks before the corner of her lips dropped at the high-pitched beeping coming from her purse.

"Damn," she muttered, pulling free her wailing cell phone. "I must have forgotten to charge it."

What Renesmee didn't say was she had a charger in her car, and had actually planned on giving the phone some juice on her way home.

"Do you need to call someone?" Jacob asked, frowning.

"Well . . . yes. I need to call the club. I left there in a hurry, and I don't want anyone to worry. Plus, I want to call Kim and let her know where I am."

She looked askance at him and glowered at the submissiveness in her voice. If she needed to use a phone, she should be able to use it without having to ask for permission.

"There's one inside the study," he answered, his easy tone stealing away her anger. "After we get settled, I'll take you to it, so you can make your calls."

"Thanks," she muttered, since it _was_ the only thing she could say.

She followed him up the steps leading to the exterior platform of the house, and waited for Jacob to unlock the front door.

He stepped aside, allowing her to enter first, and she glanced at him momentarily. She wouldn't have picked him for the gallant sort, but apparently there was more to him that she'd thought.

"Go ahead and go on up. My room is the second door on the right. Take a shower and get comfortable." Jacob peered at her, before handing her the bag from Miller's. "I have a few calls to make myself."

"O-okay," she mumbled, peering over her shoulder as she walked away.

IllI

Jake waited while Nessie climbed the stairs to the second floor landing, watching until she finally disappeared around the corner before sighing and placing his head in his hands.

God! He was so damn tired.

Surprised the weariness in his limbs didn't lay him flat, he walked shakily toward the study. He did have to make some phone calls, but of truth be known, he needed a moment alone.

Although the first hurdle _had_ been accomplished, the race was still on and he wasn't fooled into believing the battle for her heart was over. Of course, there wasn't a shadow of doubt in his mind the victory would be his, but he wondered briefly what other trials his intractable lover had in store. No doubt, she was up in their room thinking of more ways to thwart him.

She was so intransigent about having a relationship with him, about believing there could be something tangible—viable—between them. Jacob knew most of that stemmed from the confusion and fear within her, but for both their sakes he had to convince Nessie to trust him.

Flouncing down into the large, high backed executive chair in the study, he sighed, ready for the challenge even as his body begged for rest.

The lone phone in the house was concealed beneath a hidden compartment inside the large, cherry and oak desk. "Out of sight, out of mind," his mother had said when she had the furniture delivered.

Lifting and sliding back the lid, he grabbed the handset and first called Constance, his secretary, at home.

"Okay, Mister! Where in the world are you? Jared says you're at the Summit, but you're mother has been calling non-stop for the past week. You missed the fundraiser, and you didn't even show up to the hearing in Washington. What in the blue blazes is going on?"

"I am here at the Summit, Connie. I have some personal issues that need to be taken care of."

"Personal issues?! Personal issues greater than your own mother?

Jacob smiled to himself. He knew Constance had a soft spot for his mom, but still. "I will call my mother, don't worry. I'm calling you though to find out if there's anything important going on I should know about."

Constance cleared her throat, and he could almost see the blush highlighting her skin at his rebuking tone. "Well, you have about a million messages of course, but the only important thing I can think of off the top of my head is

Webster Crouse. He called wanting to know if you reached a decision about Pryco."

Crouse. Of course. He wanted to know if his offer had been accepted. "If he calls again tell him I haven't decided, but if he keeps calling the answer is going to be a resounding no."

Constance chuckled. "I'll tell him."

"Okay, so is there anything else?"

"No, but please call your mother, Jacob. She's worried and I don't know what else to tell her."

Constance used the voice she reserved for him and her grown children, the motherly tone that pleaded, in a commanding way, for him to do what she asked.

"I'll call her," he assured.

Placated, Constance relayed a few other things, most of it having to do with the uproar Grace, Jared's secretary, was feeling due to his brother's impending wedding.

"He told her to cancel all of his meetings for the next month because he wanted to spend some uninterrupted time with Rachael," Constance huffed. "The poor woman had to call the Prime Minister of Egypt for God sakes!"

Jacob laughed. "Did she speak with him?"

"No, but she had to deal with one of his assistants, and from what she told me, that man hasn't even learned the word no." Connie's chortle sounded low, vibrating through the phone lines. "You better never do anything like that, mister. If I ever have to call anyone's Prime Minister, I will quit."

"I'll remember that," Jake said, shaking his head, "Anything else?"

"No, I can't think of anything, but if I do I'll call you, okay?"

After Connie managed to guarantee a few more promises to call his mother, Jake disconnected the call. Still holding the receiver to his ear, he dialed a new number.

Jared picked up after two rings. "You know, bro, you really should call mom. She's burning up the phone lines because I, unfortunately, have my cell on."

Jacob sighed. "I'm going to call her right after I hang up with you."

"While you're at it, call Marie, too. She has no life and loves to call me in the middle of the night when I'm too busy."

Jacob could just imagine. The last time he'd called during the nighttime hours there had obviously been something more important on Jared's mind. "No worries. I'll call her. So, the hearing went off without a hitch?"

"Yes and no. Senator Harcourt was his usual, surly self."

"He must have pulled some serous strings to get on the Finance committee. "I've always wondered what ace he has up his sleeve."

"You and I both, but I'm thinking even with him dissenting, things will still go in our favor."

"They didn't vote then?"

"No, they wanted to review the matter further. And let me tell you now, if they do decide on another hearing, I won't be in Washington for t."

He'd never heard his brother talk this way. Business was—had been—Jared's life. "I'm surprised to hear you say that," Jacob said truthfully.

A light chuckle sounded through the phone waves. "Well, I got other thinks on my mind. And since you obviously can take some time off, I think I'm entitled to do the same."

Jacob ignored the taunt. "So when are you coming back home?"

"Probably tonight, Rachel keeps mentioning school and exams."

Jacob could hear a feminine voice in the background, murmuring what sounded like sweet nothings. Laughing, he shook his head. "So, what are you _two_ up to?"

"I'm taking Rachel on a tour of the capitol." Jacob could hear the smile in his brother's voice. "She's never been to Washington before, and she wants to go everywhere. Right now, she's taking pictures."

"Did you take her to the Smithsonian?"

"No, we just left the Aerospace museum, but we're headed there now. What's up with you though?"

Jacob stared around the room, listening absently to the ambient sounds echoing from the receiver before taking a shallow breath, and rushing ahead with the news he had to tell his brother. "I'm at the summit."

"Yeah, I got caller ID."

"I'm here with Renesmee," he said.

A decided pause sounded and Jake heard his brother swear softly. "What are you doing at the summit with my fiancée's best friend, _Jacob_?"

"It's complicated . . . and I can't really get into it now."

"You better try. The last think I need is this shit muddying up my life."

Jacob's jaw set, and his fist clenched tight. "What Renesmee and I are dong s none of your business!"

"When you start screwing around in my territory it becomes my business," Jared muttered.

"Your territory? Rachael is your and Renesmee is mine. That's the territory, _Jared_, and you best never fucking forget it either."

Hanging up on his brother, Jacob immediately sighed in regret.

That call hadn't gone the way he's planned. He figured Jared would be mad, but saying Renesmee was a part of his territory had pushed him to the limit.

Renesmee belonged to him, and no one else.

He thought briefly about calling his mother before deciding against it. Jacob knew she worried, and he hated to cause her any sort of pain, but he also knew both Constance and Jared would assure his mother he was fine.

He also declined phoning Marie. Undoubtedly, both his mother and sister would severely blister his eardrums when he did phone, bit for the time being, he was too tired to face any recriminations. He has enough to deal with in regards to Renesmee and the tumultuous feeling aroused.

Knowing the battle with Renesmee was still far from over, he rose to make his way toward the bedroom.

He hoped she's already taken her shower. Right now, all he wanted to do wash his body and crawl into bed next to her. Though, knowing Renesmee, he'd probably have to coax and tease until she capitulated.

Bone weary, Jacob mounted the stairs. After the depressing conversation with Jared, he was even more determined to bring Renesmee to his hand. His entire family mind descend on him tomorrow, and more so than ever, he felt time was paramount.

The sound of the shower echoed around his room, and clouds of floating steam drifted about. Smiling in gratitude, happy to have a bit of luck, Jacob stripped quickly before walking into the connecting bathroom, he knocked on the thin Plexiglas door before opening it wide.

Nessie stood directly beneath the nozzle, he head bowed.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, entranced by the way the water sluiced down her naked body.

"I'm just about to get out," she murmured, blinking, he eyes bright.

"No need, it's big enough for the two of us," he said, joining her to step under the spraying nozzle.

"I-I really should be going."

"Stay with me. You promised to give me a chance," he murmured, pleading. "Don't go."

Although she looked unsure, Renesmee nodded, and Jacob felt a sense of triumph burgeoning in his soul. Since the month he's met her, the need—the desire—to be close with her had burrowed under his skin. Pulling her into his arms, he ignored the joy and fear inside his heart, and reveled in the feel of Renesmee.

He couldn't lose her.

He just couldn't.

* * *

_**Sneak peek of the new chapter:**_

* * *

Turning in his arms, she peered up at him. "Yet, you seem so sure you can make me happy."

"We wouldn't be here if I thought otherwise."

Tired of fighting the battle within herself, she laid her head against his chest. "I'm not in the mood to be dominated tonight, Jacob. Can you just love me without any commands or punishments?"

Jacob didn't answer verbally. He led her upstairs to his bedroom and slowly undressed her. There on the large king size bed, he showed her, over and over, how much he could love her.

* * *

_**-Review if you want next chapter ;)-**_


	9. CHAPTER EIGHT

_**Author's Note:**_ I hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for all the support. I love each and every one of you. I would just like to add, sorry about the confusion with the names (if you noticed) in the last chapter. I had written a draft of it a long time ago and as I was reading through it, I got confused as well, so I may have switched the names around. But Jarred's fiancée is Kim. She is also Renesmee's best friend.

**Also!** I'm thinking about writing another story based on Renesmee and Jacob! Do you guys like cowboys? ;) It's going to be another exotic romance. Please let me know if you guys are interested.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own the characters.

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**CHAPTER EIGHT**

* * *

The first think that Renesmee noticed when she opened her eyes was the darkened gray sky outside the window. Glancing at the nightstand clock, she grimaced at the time.

Damn! I haven't done anything since I got here except eat, sleep and fu—

Hastily dismissing the errant, but appropriate, thought, her eyes surveyed the room for signs of Jacob. Earlier, he had muttered something about getting up, but she'd been too caught in the thrall of sleep to do more than grumble and pull a pillow over her head. He'd laughed, smacked her behind, and told her to "shake a leg".

Sighing because she really didn't feel like moving, Renesmee crawled out of bed to walk toward the bathroom. She emerged a few moments later and looked around for her clothes. She remembered folding them and putting them on top of the dresser before she'd taken her shower earlier. But now they were nowhere to be seen.

Perplexed, she searched the room.

She was near to thinking Jacob had thrown them away, when she wrenched opened a drawer and at last saw all her clothes, folded just as she remember, inside.

An odd feeling began to grow in her chest. There was something very intimate about having her possessions mingled amongst his. Renesmee knew she shouldn't read too much into it. Granted, he'd probably put her clothes in the drawer to get them out of the way, but she couldn't help thinking there was something more.

Picking up one of the shirts she'd purchased earlier, she sat down on the bed and stared out the lattice framed window. In the heat of passion she had promised to give Jacob a chance, but in the clear light of approaching duck, her choice seemed ridiculously foolhardy.

Doubtless, most women would give their eyeteeth for a man like Jacob Black. Handsome, rich and debonair, he was a walking dream. Yet, most women didn't have a nightmare like Brayden Windham in their past to compare.

Dropping the shirt, Renesmee stood to walk toward the window, watching absently as the wind swayed through the trees, her mind remembering a past she'd rather forget.

At the tender age of eighteen, she'd been released from the care of the state with a few bucks and a "good luck with the rest of your life". Eager to leave Oklahoma, she'd boarded a bus headed for Los Angeles. She'd wanted some excitement and a chance to make a good life for herself. California had seemed the perfect place.

Amazed by all the bustling activity, it didn't take long before she found a job waiting tables in a restaurant, and for the next year, she'd pinched pennies while staying in seedy motels until she finally had enough for a deposit on a small studio apartment. Later that same month, she enrolled at a local Junior College.

Renesmee wouldn't have gone so far as to say her life had been perfect, but she was self-sufficient and independent. Two things she craved after the hectic uncertainty of fostered living. However, the day Brayden Windham sauntered into her life, all of that changed.

A handsome, well-to-do marketing consultant, he'd dined often at the small cafe where she worked. When he first asked her out on a date, Renesmee remembered being flattered. Although other men had approached her in the past, Brayden was unfailingly polite. He'd made her feel special—wanted.

As usual in relationships that go sour, at first things were fine, more than fine actually. Brayden introduced her to a whole other world of art, culture and fine living. He'd been like a gentle, determined tutor. After six months of dating, he'd asked her to move into his spacious Century City apartment.

Renesmee had been hesitant at first, but slowly Brayden wore her down, convincing her that living with him would help defer cost and give her more money for school. He was so loving and attentive that she pushed away her uncertainties and packed her meager belongings.

Brayden had always been dominant in bed. She'd never asked him about it before because she liked his rough edges. Though, when he began to push her boundaries more and more, she finally worked up enough nerve to ask him if he enjoyed being dominant.

To this day, she could still recall the look on his face as he stared at her, weighing her question. The very next night he'd taken her to a club located in the heart of downtown.

On the surface, Boudoirs, had been an upscale dance hall complete with flashing lights and crowded bodies, but as she toured the lower, private echelons. Renesmee realized much, much more was contained within the dark, forbidding underground.

She would have liked to say that she'd been disgusted by the purveyance—the sights, smells and sounds—but her body had tingled with arousal. Even to this day, she couldn't deny it.

Brayden had sensed her intrigue and spirited her home. Within moments of stepping through the door, he introduced her into the true world of dominance and submission.

Heady, erotic and totally encompassing, Renesmee had fallen into the life with ease. She never understood what made her crave the things she did, but resisting had felt like denying her soul to breathe.

Nevertheless, within a few months, the gentle lover she knew began to change like the wind. Brayden's dominance, once fascinating, began to strangle her. She couldn't leave without telling him where she was going. The few friends she'd made were suddenly unworthy. Her interests dismissed, she was regulated to his companions, his wants and his desires.

Tolerant of his demeanor as part and parcel of the life they'd lived, she'd taken it in stride. It wasn't until she adamantly refused to reject her acceptance to UCLA that his attitude flipped for the absolute worse.

The first time he'd slapped her, she'd forgiven him. The second time, she'd cried, hoping he would apologize. The next time it occurred, Brayden didn't even look sorry. He'd raped her, beaten her and taken her car keys.

The worst part was even after the traumatic event, she hoped there was some way to bring back the loving man she'd once known. Renesmee figured if she could learn to please him better things would go back to normal.

They never did, and the gentle sexual dominance he'd previously shown turned to cruelty.

Sighing, Renesmee turned away from the window, and walked back toward the bed, slowly removing her cotton pajamas.

She didn't think Jacob was totally like Brayden, but there were enough similarities to put her on edge. How could she protect herself from a man like him? When she left Windham, she'd left penniless, without a friend to call upon, but she'd been able to get away. After a year, she had even re-applied to UCLA.

Yet, and Renesmee recognized this intuitively, she would never be able to get away from Jacob. His money and power made him a force to be reckoned with. He was ten times as daunting as Brayden had ever been, and if he wanted her, she'd never loosen his hold.

Slipping on her shirt, and grabbing the Capri pants from the drawer, she quickly dressed, feeling foolish for rehashing so many bad memories. For nearly ten years, she'd learned to put her experience with Brayden out of her mind. She'd dated other guys, graduated with a bachelor's degree and was nearly finished with law school. She had made a life beyond what Brayden attempted to ruin—the life she had always dreamed about.

She'd be a fool to put herself in a position where she might lose it all again, but her hunger for Jacob was growing despite her convictions to the contrary.

Desperately needing to talk to someone about her fears, Renesmee wished she'd been able to get hold of Kim earlier, but when she called her cell phone she'd been put through to voice mail. Frustrated, she'd left a message briefly explaining that she was with Jacob and then phoned the club to make her apologies to the manager.

Melissa had answered, surprising her because the buxom brunette was supposed to be on vacation. Wary about explaining the situation, she'd given her some half-baked excuse, and told her she was sick.

Lost inside a tumult of emotions, she took a deep breath, glanced once in the mirror, and made her way down the stairs. As much as she would have liked to stay inside the room, hiding away, Renesmee knew she'd have to face the music eventually.

Most of the lower interior was ablaze and a tinkling, childish laughter echoed. Continuing toward the sounds, she pushed open the swinging kitchen door, slightly surprised by the homely tableau.

"Well, looks like someone finally decided to join us."

Embarrassed, Renesmee smiled at Margie as she took a small step over the threshold. "Sorry, I-I overslept."

"No biggie, you're just in time for dinner." Margie walked toward the large, round oak kitchen table, pointing a large cooking spoon at the small little girl seated to the left of Jacob. "This little munchkin here is my granddaughter." She moved closer to tousle the child's soft auburn hair with her free hand, commanding in a firm voice, "Say hello, Jenna."

"Hello," Jenna squeaked in return, her attention clearly focused on the game of cards she was playing with Jacob.

Renesmee mumbled a reply between 'hey' and 'hello', and stood awkwardly in the doorway, searching for a way to ease her rising tension. Swinging a curious look at the relaxed, composed Jacob, she questioned with her eyes where she was supposed to fit into all this.

Adding to her discomfort, Jacob grinned and patted the chair next to him. "Jenna's a serious 'Go Fish' player. She's already beaten me once, but I think this time," he gestured toward a small stack in front of him, winking, "I've got her on the ropes." Jenna shuffled her cards and squinted at Jacob with a determined look. "Though, I may need you to look over her shoulder a few times," he murmured, playfully staring the child down.

Jenna set back in her chair, her expression affronted. "No! Look at his cards. He already has three books! If he gets another, he'll win."

"I don't think I can be of any help," Renesmee muttered, shifting her gaze back and forth as she took a seat. "I've never played this game before."

Dismissing her lack of knowledge with a wave, Jenna peered across the table. "Just tell me all the cards he has in his hand."

Margie stopped swirling the pot on the stove, glancing over her shoulder. "Jenna!"

"But Granny, he asked her to cheat first."

"Jake!"

Renesmee couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. "Yeah, _Jake_," she said, mimicking Margie's matronly voice. The game went quickly after that, with Renesmee holding up fingers and making signs to Jenna behind Jacob's back. He peered at her a couple of times, but accepted defeat when Jenna triumphantly showcased her final book.

"That's two times in a row. Now you have to admit that I am the greatest 'Go Fish' player ever!"

"Yeah, you're the greatest player ever," Jacob mumbled, tugging on the ends of Renesmee's hair. "Of course, you did have help."

Margie tapped her spoon against the pot. "Okay, well now that's settled, I think it's time for us to eat."

Renesmee felt her stomach growl in response. She hadn't been hungry when she came down earlier, but she smiled gratefully at the steaming helping of food in front of her. "This looks really delicious."

"Thank you, dear. Actually, it's a new salmon dish I'm trying out for the diner, seared salmon with mango salsa, red potatoes and veggies. Take a bite and tell me what you think."

Jenna giggled, digging in as well. "We're all Granny's guinea pigs," she pronounced.

"That's Guinea pig, and don't talk with your mouth full," Margie admonished, taking a vacant seat. "So, what do you do, Renesmee?"

Nearly choking on her food, she gasped, hastily swallowing a mouthful. "I ... uh ... I'm a dancer," she mumbled.

"Oh! Really? What kind of dancing? Classical? Ballet? You've definitely got the calves of a dancer, but I'd guess you were a little tall for ballet."

Renesmee looked at Jacob. _Help_, she screamed at him, only her lips formed a silent 'O'.

She wasn't embarrassed about her job, but she didn't want to get into a discussion about stripping in front of a child. People always seemed to have endless questions whenever she brought the subject up.

"I'm not trained," she finally murmured, staring back down at her plate, hoping Margie would get the hint and move on to another topic.

She didn't have to worry though because Jenna suddenly barged into the conversation with her own tale. "I danced the lead in my school's Christmas play last year. My best friend, Rowan, wanted it but our teacher said I had better timing."

Fascinated by the young child's enthusiasm, and extremely grateful for the change in discussion, Renesmee encouraged Jenna to continue by asking a lot of questions.

Enthusiastic to have a ready audience, the young girl regaled them about the performance. She even wrung promises from Renesmee and Jacob to attend the next one later that year. "You can bring your parents to!" she exclaimed.

Startled, Renesmee jerked her head up. Again she looked at Jacob, hoping he'd intercede with some thoughtful, witty response, but he only smiled, lifting his brows as though he too was waiting for a response.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," she murmured, looking out toward the windows of the kitchen before focusing on the child once more. "I don't know who my parents are, so they really couldn't come."

Undeterred, Jenna continued, "Are you adopted?"

"No, not adopted."

"Well ... how did you grow up then if you weren't adopted?"

_Out of the mouths of babes._ "There are many ways to grow up, Jenna. Some people have parents and some people don't. I'm one of the people who don't."

Strange, she had never explained her life in such a way, but saying it didn't make her feel any less a person. Truth be known, she actually felt a sense of relief. The uncompromising, wonder-like acceptance in Jenna's gaze brought to light a point of view she'd been loathe to think about.

Her experiences had molded her, and at times she was envious of folks like Kim, who had parents, but Renesmee knew that without the rough upbringing, she'd be less than she was now. Without the facets that had hewn her into shape, she'd be a different person. And truth be known, she enjoyed the being she was now.

"Okay, so no parents. But, you've promised to come and I'll be looking for you."

Renesmee smiled happily. "I'll be there, Jenna. You can bet your bottom dollar on that."

"Bet the bottom dollar. Granny says that all the time, but I don't understand what it means. How can you bet your bottom dollar?"

"It means you can bet your last penny on it, Jenna," Jacob said, reaching across the table to flick her chin.

"Well ... I have a whole jar of pennies..."

And again, as if something of momentous importance hadn't just occurred, Jenna moved on to the heaps of change she'd saved in the jars her parents had given her.

The evening moved along swiftly after that, with both Jacob and Margie volunteering stories of their youth. Relaxing into the discussion, Renesmee shared what tales she could about her invariant childhood, laughing about some of the craziness she'd endured. All in all, it was one of the best nights of her life.

When Margie rose and began to gather the empty dishes Renesmee nearly begged for her to stay. "You don't really have to go, do you?"

"Yes, I've got to get this munchkin home. It's already way past her bedtime."

"No, it's not. Mom lets me stay up."

"But tonight isn't one of those nights, dear." Smiling with a knowing grin, Margie began ladling leftovers into empty Tupperware. "Besides, Jacob and Renesmee need to get some sleep. They got here really early in the morning. And, if we want to see them tomorrow at the Melting Festival than we've got to let them rest."

"The what?" Renesmee asked.

"The Melting Festival," Marge clarified. "It's the city's summer festival here in Mammoth."

"They've got lots of food and dew-drop chocolate ice cream," Jenna chimed in. "It's really, really fun, and they have horses that take you on a trail. Oh ... please say you'll come. I want you to meet Rowan."

Staring into the child's expectant face, Renesmee could do no more than nod her head, even as she glimpsed the smiling, knowing looks between Jacob and Margie.

She'd been manoeuvred, once again, but she wasn't upset.

Jenna's boundless enthusiasm was contagious, and Renesmee found herself looking forward to the event. "I'll be there," she assured.

"Great," Margie piped, "make sure you come to my booth so you can taste some of my famed cherry cobbler."

Laughing, Renesmee nodded again. "Make sure you save me a piece. I know the line will be around the block if your famous potato pie is any indication."

Beaming smiles, along with promises to meet at specific locations, were the last things Renesmee was left with as she watched Margie and her granddaughter bundle into their small SUV with a fond sense of regret.

"I'm glad you liked them," Jacob whispered in her ear, coming close to wrap his arms about her.

"They're really nice. What's not to like?"

"I don't know. You can be difficult at times. It's hard to gauge what will make you happy."

Renesmee sighed. "Is that what you're worried about? What will make me happy?"

"You have a lot to learn if you don't know that I am supremely worried about what makes you happy, Ness. Most times, that's the only thing I think about."

Turning in his arms, she peered up at him. "Yet, you seem so sure you can make me happy."

"We wouldn't be here if I thought otherwise."

Tired of fighting the battle within herself, she laid her head against his chest. "I'm not in the mood to be dominated tonight, Jacob. Can you just love me without any commands or punishments?"

Jacob didn't answer verbally. He led her upstairs to his bedroom and slowly undressed her. There on the large king size bed, he showed her, over and over, how much he could love her.

* * *

**Sneak-peek of the next chapter:**

* * *

"Fifty dollars!" This was from the young guy in the lettermen jacket, who promptly received a punch to the arm from his disgruntled girlfriend.

"One hundred dollars," Two childish voices chimed at once, and Renesmee smiled as she waved to Rowan, Jenna and their respective sets of parents.

"Two fifty!"

Unsure who yelled the amount; Renesmee peered around the crowd looking for the mysterious bidder until her eyes clashed upon a dark, heated stare.

"One hundred thousand." Jacob didn't even need to shout, his voice carried with the silencing effect of a trumpet blast.

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_**-Reviews are very much appreciated. Muah!-**_


	10. CHAPTER NINE

**Author's Note: **Hello, lovely people! Thank you for being so patient I love you all!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything

* * *

**CHAPTER NINE**

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_But if I had you,  
That would be the only thing I'd ever need  
Yeah if I had you,  
The money, fame and fortune never could compete_

_-If I Had You, Adam Lambert_

* * *

The Melting Festival turned out to be one huge gathering of locals and tourists. Renesmee figured the name probably had more to do with the large icicle shaped mascot than anything else actually melting, since she learned it was warm and sunny in Mammoth Lakes for the better part of the year.

There was a ferris wheel and a few other low tempo rides for children, but the true highlight was the long line of booths in what was dubbed 'Sticky Sweet Alley'. Funnel cake, cotton candy of every flavor, and the specialty of the festival, dewdrop ice cream, abounded. There were also plenty of vendors, most of them consisting of local artisans, who plied everything from homespun glassware and rock paintings to elaborately designed gossamer wings for children and adults.

Jacob purchased a huge pair of white angel wings, and murmured in her ear, "I can't wait to see you wearing these as you ride me."

All day he'd been whispering things like that, or crowding close so he could kiss or touch her. She felt ready to scream because she knew he was deliberately putting her on edge. Flushed, she turned away, looking for an escape as he made arrangements to have the item delivered, and spotted Jenna and her young friend, Rowan. Waving, she called them over, smiling at the glittery paint covering their faces.

"Well, don't you two look gorgeous."

"Chloe did it," Jenna said, flicking her hand in excitement at the two huge balloons on her cheeks.

Rowan not to be outdone showcased her whiskers and cat nose. "I wanted to be a cat."

Renesmee laughed. "I see. Actually, the more I look at you. I'm thinking with your red hair and green eyes, you should change your name to Calico."

Rowan grinned, and pointed up at her face. "You should get one too, Renesmee. I mean not a cat or balloons, but maybe something like a heart or flowers because you're so pretty."

"No way am I prettier than you two munchkins," she enthused, tweaking each of their ears.

Both girls laughed happily, before grabbing her hands and pulling her toward a large booth with a queue of children in front. She didn't need to look over her shoulder to know that Jacob had followed. She could feel the heat of his stare traveling over her like a caress.

After waiting in line for nearly twenty minutes, with Rowan and Jenna chatting away about the upcoming talent show, Renesmee sat for her face painting.

Chloe was a young woman with a multitude of tattoos and streaked purple and black hair. From all appearances, she'd look to be society's biggest rebel, but the huge smile and open, unguarded look in her eyes reminded Renesmee of someone who wanted to experience life to the max regardless of what people thought.

Peering down with the vivid regard of an artist sizing up a canvas, she chuckled. "I don't really see you as the hearts or flowers type. I'm thinking ... exotic, mysterious." Chloe looked over to Jacob, who stood at the edge of the booth smiling benignly. "Am I right?"

Jacob shrugged. "She's always been a mystery to me."

Turning Renesmee's chair to the left, away from the glaring sun, she swirled a clean brush in a jar of thick, bright, glittery blue paint. "I've got the perfect design," Chloe said, grinning.

The grazing touch of Chloe's paintbrush against her skin was cold and Renesmee jumped a few times from the tickling bristles. Jenna and Rowan were allowed to stand inside the booth, and she judged from their wide-eyed stare that whatever Chloe was meticulously weaving across her face was exciting and fascinating to the girls.

After five solid minutes, Chloe finally leaned back, waving an arm like an effusive Italian. "This is soooo perfect. I gotta take a picture." Before Renesmee could protest, she'd snapped a Polaroid. "You look so hot. I'm not even going to charge you for this. It'll be worth the price when everyone gets to see it. It's like friggin' free advertisement."

Feeling like a dressed up Christmas ham, Renesmee swung her gaze in a wide arc. "Would you mind giving me a mirror?"

"Oh, yeah, here you go," Chloe volunteered, handing her a large oval shaped mirror.

Sure she was going to have to run to the nearest bathroom, Renesmee was entranced by the beautiful, pagan markings along the right side of her face. She looked like a tattooed Amazonian princess. The swirling, interconnected patterns highlighted her doe shaped eyes and high cheekbones.

Rowan and Jenna clapped with enthusiasm, reaching up with eager hands to touch.

"No way kiddies, it has to dry first," Chloe gently reprimanded.

Jacob, who so far had stood silent, stepped forward and lifted her chin with one long finger.

Raising her gaze, Renesmee was seared by a flash of heat. He looked ready to fuck her on the spot. If there weren't a ton of people milling about, along with curiously fervent children near by, he probably would have.

"So, what do you think?" Chloe asked, moving back some to let Jacob view his fill.

"She looks wild ... _untamed_," he answered, his voice low and guttural.

The wealth of hidden meaning in his words wasn't lost on Renesmee, and the images careening through her mind made her aware of every aspect of his masculine, commanding persona.

Chloe chuckled, making her start like a guilty child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "Give it ten minutes to dry before any kind of strenuous activity, okay?"

Knowing her cheeks were probably beet red, Renesmee glanced at Rowan and Jenna, who thankfully were occupied elsewhere.

Even though she and Jacob insisted on paying, Chloe remained steadfast. "No! Just walk around and tell everyone to stop by. Besides, you're helping me, really. You're the first adult I've had all day, plus you're drop dead beautiful. It's like free advertisement. When folks see you they'll be sure to line up for real tattoos at the shop."

Renesmee became convinced of the validity of Chloe's suggestion later after several gaggling teens, and a few old timers, remarked on the intriguing design. Following orders, she pointed them to Chloe.

She and Jacob continued to walk around the fair after Rowan and Jenna had run off to be with some of their other friends.

Renesmee kept stealing fleeting looks at Jacob, before finally voicing the thoughts rolling around in her head. "You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

"Surprised?"

"Frankly, yes. It's hard to imagine the rich and powerful Jacob Black as the festival type of guy."

Jacob nodded, as though accepting her assessment. "I'd be lying if said I did this on a regular basis, but I think everyone is entitled to a moment to stop and smell the roses."

"Is this what you're doing? Stopping to smell the roses?"

"On any given day, I usually work about sixteen hours. There are thousands of people, directly and indirectly, depending on me for their livelihood. Simple luxuries like this," he waved an arm around, "are a blessing."

"But you have enough money to never have to work."

He laughed. "Can you really picture me jet setting around the world?"

A couple of days ago, she wouldn't have had a problem seeing that, but the more time she spent with him, the more Renesmee found it hard to imagine him as a flagrant, about-thetown play boy. "No, I guess not," she murmured. "You're too dynamic to just sit on your ass all day."

"Why Renesmee, I think that may be the first compliment you've ever given to me."

Pinching him, she teased, "Don't let it go to your head, buster."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll never let me get too full of myself."

Jacob's comment, while on the surface flippant, underlined a deeper meaning she was finding harder and harder to resist. "I don't know how I can stop that when you're already full of yourself."

"Confidence, my dear, it's only confidence."

Renesmee smirked. "Yeah, right." Shaking her head, she motioned toward the stage in the center where a mike and speakers were being set up. "I promised the girls I'd root for them. Let's go."

The talent show was open to anyone with guts enough to get on stage and perform. Everyone was applauded equally for their spirit, even if they weren't very good.

Renesmee struggled to contain her giggles through two horrible performances of _Earth Angel _and _Brown Eyed Girl_, the latter song by a besotted husband to his very pregnant wife in the crowd. Rowan and Jenna danced to the Jackson Five's, _Rockin' Robin_, like two little adorable sprites, and for them, Renesmee cheered the loudest. But, the competition was blown away by a tall, ebony skinned beauty who belted out a rousing rendition of Destiny Child's, _Survivor_.

Margie was the emcee, and she presented everyone who had performed with a small, plastic icicle. The winner not only got the trophy, but a two hundred fifty dollar gift certificate to Miller's General Store.

Renesmee winced, heat suffusing her face, as the paunchy Jeremiah Miller stepped on the stage to hand the winner her certificate.

Jacob laughed at her shocked expression, and kissed her gently. "You're blushing."

"And it's all your fault. I can't believe you closed down the store to-to screw around. He probably told the whole town I'm some sort of tart."

Cavalier like only the truly rich could be, he shrugged. "Jeremiah would never say a word."

"How can you be so sure?"

Looking over, his gaze became hard like flint. "Because he wouldn't like the consequences if he did."

There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Jacob was deadly serious either. She didn't know everything about him, but she was positive very few people ever attempted to cross him. The power he held over others should have frightened her, but she found herself peeking at him under the veil of her lashes, vividly imagining his raw animal magnetism. Deepseated yearnings unfurled in her belly as her breathing accelerated to match the rampant longing crawling through her limbs.

Jacob narrowed his eyes, cocked his head to the side, and Renesmee could see the change—the dominance—overtaking his body.

"Are you ready to go?" Even his voice had taken on a commanding note.

Falling deeper into a chasm of lust and submission, she was prevented from answering by the timely—or untimely—arrival of Rowan and Jenna, flushed with happiness from their talent show performance.

"How did we do?" they both squealed at the same time.

Wide eyed, Renesmee took a hasty step away from Jacob. "You guys were great!"

"My dad said even though we didn't win, we were the best," Rowan chirped.

Jacob smiled, though his eyes lingered a moment longer on Renesmee before looking down at the two cherubs jumping up and down in front of him. "And your dad was right."

"Next is the auction for the heart foundation. You have to stay for that too. Granny said I could go up because Grampy's going to bid on me. You can go up too, Renesmee. I'd bet you'd get a million gazillion dollars," Jenna steamed ahead as usual, issuing orders like a well-trained, four-star Admiral.

Renesmee shook her head, peering first at Jacob then Rowan and Jenna. "Wait a minute, slow down. What is the heart foundation?"

"It's a charity for people with bad hearts. They give them money so they don't get sick," Rowan volunteered.

"Oh please, you gotta go up, Renesmee. Don't be shy," Jenna pleaded, jumping up and down.

Staring down at the angelic faces, she tried to think of a plausible excuse the two determined six year olds would accept. Mentally grasping at straws, she jumped when Jacob smacked her rump, urging her none too gently toward the stage.

"Go ahead and go up. You might just fetch a million gazillion dollars," he said, winking.

Renesmee didn't like the sound of that, especially knowing he could give a _million gazillion _dollars without batting an eyelash. "Don't you dare," she whispered furiously over her shoulder.

"It's for charity," he called, laughing at her thunderous frown. "Don't worry. I won't let anyone else buy you."

"That's very reassuring. Why don't you go up there?"

"Perish the thought. Who would bid on me?"

_Who indeed? _A hunk like Jacob would probably start a riot. Laughing at the image of little old ladies digging out their pocket books, she grinned at him evilly. "Afraid?"

"Mortally," he answered.

Rolling her eyes, Renesmee walked away with Rowan and Jenna to stand behind the stage, listening intently as Margie extolled the terrible facts associated with heart disease.

"Heart disease is one of the leading causes of death in the United States. It affects men, women and children equally. The sad fact is many of the diseases can be prevented or offset by early detection. Yet people often ignore the warning signs because of the high cost of treatment and care, which can range anywhere from fifty to one hundred thousand dollars. The Save a Heart Foundation offers free testing and services for low-income families, or anyone who needs it. This year, to help raise some of those much needed funds, we've agreed to hold a small auction." The crowd began to cheer and Margie raised her hands for silence. "Now, don't think of it as buying someone. The Melting Festival is definitely not promoting that! Think of it, instead, as a chance to save a heart, with the added bonus of proving your love. Okay ... so I'm going to start the auction with a wonderful little girl who is the sparkle of my eye, Jenna Michela Neri, my granddaughter."

Margie motioned for Jenna to come on stage, and Renesmee smiled as her short little legs literally skipped up the stairs.

Someone from the crowd yelled, "One hundred dollars."

"Two hundred dollars!"

"Three!"

Renesmee, watching like a spectator at a tennis match, listened with one ear as Rowan provided the play-by-play, explaining that the two men bidding were Jenna's dad and Grandfather.

"Sold to the handsome man in the back for five hundred dollars," Margie preened, smiling fondly at her husband.

Next up was Rowan, who was the subject of a bidding war between her mother, father and a good looking young man who had to be her brother. Next was a teenage girl who waved excitedly at a well-built lad wearing a green and gold lettermen's jacket. He offered fifty dollars, but was quickly out done by the girl's scowling father. The muffled, "Aww Dad" made the crowd and Renesmee laugh.

After her was the serenading crooner, whose pregnant wife volunteered the highest sum yet, one thousand dollars. A thunderous burst of applause sounded, and Renesmee tried to scoot further back as the 'line of auctioned' began to thin. She'd always been a good sport for charity, but she'd rather write a check than go out on that stage.

Finally everyone, except her had done their part, and she began to breathe a sigh of relief until Margie's booming voice singled her out.

"I think we're missing someone." Frozen in place, Renesmee tried to blend into the wood next to her, but Margie's eagle eyed gaze found her easily. "Bring your butt out here, young lady. If my six year old granddaughter could do it then you can bet your bottom dollar you can."

"No, I'm going to write them a check. Actually, I've got cash so they won't even have to go to the bank," she said, waving her arms in denial.

Margie fixed her with a relentless stare, pointed at the stage, and said in a no nonsense voice, "Get out here."

Startled by the changing of a woman who'd gone from matronly auctioneer to demanding and hardnosed in a matter of seconds, she walked up the few steps leading to the platform of the stage.

"Oh look," Margie praised. "Doesn't she look like a goddess with that beautiful design on her face?"

The crowd murmured an agreement as a yelping howl of joy sounded from the back.

Chloe ran up, undaunted by the amount of attention she stirred. "And if anyone wants to know, I did that! You can have the same if you come by my booth. Or ... if you'd like something more permanent then be sure to come by Chloe's Tattoo Parlor, located on the corner of Bartley Street and..."

Margie frowned, but looked like she was trying to contain a bout of laughter. "_Thank you_, Chloe."

Rebuked, the eccentric vendor faded back, but not before giving Renesmee a huge thumbs up.

_Well, at least she's enjoying this!_

"Okay, so now that we've got the plugs out of the way, why don't we start the bidding?"

"Fifty dollars!" This was from the young guy in the lettermen jacket, who promptly received a punch to the arm from his disgruntled girlfriend.

"One hundred dollars," Two childish voices chimed at once, and Renesmee smiled as she waved to Rowan, Jenna and their respective sets of parents.

"Two fifty!"

Unsure who yelled the amount; Renesmee peered around the crowd looking for the mysterious bidder until her eyes clashed upon a dark, heated stare.

"One hundred thousand." Jacob didn't even need to shout, his voice carried with the silencing effect of a trumpet blast.

Margie, who looked completely floored, recovered with amazing aplomb. "Well ... since I don't think there are any other takers, please give a round of applause to Jacob Black and his beautiful companion Renesmee Cullen for their generous donation. And-and many thanks to everyone who participated, this is sure to be a-a day to remember for Save a Heart and the Melting Festival."

With the crowd parting like the red sea for Jacob's tall stature, Renesmee waited, helplessly reminded of another stage, and another time when she had looked down on him. Then she'd been naked and weary, afraid to lose his dominant nature, but now she stood waiting—_hoping to unleash it_.

* * *

**Sneak-preview of the next chapter:**

* * *

"Did you touch yourself?" Jacob asked, already knowing the answer to his question, the thought of her deft, nimble fingers caressing her pussy without his permission hitching his desire upwards by a notch.

Renesmee looked away, blowing out a breath. "Yes."

"Why?"

"You were taking too long."

Normally, he might have let a transgression like this slide, or only punished her for a minor infraction, but he knew Renesmee was testing his will power—testing the levels of his control.

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**-Please Review! Isn't Jenna adorable? ^_^-**


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